by Bryan Dunn
“I beg to differ, Mr. McNills. A find has been made yielding compelling empirical evidence and artifacts. A wild goose chase? No, I don’t think so. Besides, this goose might just lay the proverbial golden egg.”
Chapter 18
The UH-60 Coast Guard chopper sat on the iceberg like a giant red-and-white seabird perched for flight.
Spilling out of the chopper, clutching gear, shrugging on parkas, and sipping coffee were Amy, Harry, Boots, and Lockwood. As each of them dropped out of the chopper and onto the ice, their breath became visible in the chill morning air.
They had been lucky. The weather was perfect: calm seas, no wind, and the sun rising in a cloudless sky.
Lockwood, looking like he’d just stepped out of an L. L. Bean catalog, stamped his feet and rubbed his hands together. He seemed completely delighted to be standing on an iceberg fifty miles out to sea.
“Incredible. It’s even more fantastic than you described, Amy.” Lockwood turned, trying to take in as much of the iceberg as possible.
Amy stepped up next to Lockwood and pointed at the towering pinnacle. “There… that’s were we’re going – to the base of that pinnacle.”
Lockwood nodded, staring in awe, then shielded his eyes from the sun for a better look.
Nowhere Man appeared in the cargo door and hopped out of the chopper, leaving Lieutenant Cushman in the cockpit to keep an eye on the bird and be ready to lift off in a moment’s notice at the first sign of any change in the ice. Although an iceberg of that size was usually predictable and relatively stable, only fools took anything for granted this far north in the Atlantic.
Nowhere Man zipped up his parka and crunched over to where Harry was sorting out his gear.
“Hey, Harry, I think I’ll tag along this time – I want to see this thing for myself.”
Harry looked up at Nowhere. “You’re not going to believe it, Nowhere. Damn boat is sticking right out of the ice. A couple thousand years old. Showroom condition.”
“It’s a kayak, Harry, not a boat,” Amy corrected as she adjusted the strap on a digital camera.
“Right,” Harry said dryly, letting it go at that.
Lockwood nodded in Nowhere Man’s direction, then cleared his throat and addressed the group. “All available hands are welcome,” he said, sounding and acting like he’d just been placed in command. “If we are able to free the kayak, it will take all of us working together to transport it across the ice and back to the helicopter. What’s that saying? Ah, yes, ‘many hands make light work’.”
Harry and Nowhere Man exchanged a look, both rolling their eyes.
Harry looked at Lockwood and thought: what a grandstanding asshole.
“After the gear is assembled and has been equitably divided amongst us,” Lockwood continued, “Harry, you take point, followed by Amy, then me and Boots. Nowhere Man can bring up the rear.”
Harry suddenly snapped to attention, did a military pivot, and gave Lockwood a crisp salute. “Yes sir, General MacArthur.”
Nowhere Man slapped his knee and laughed out loud. Even Amy couldn’t keep herself from cracking up.
Lockwood’s face darkened and he leveled his eyes at Harry. “Is there some problem, Mr. McNills? If you have a better plan, by all means enlighten us.”
“Sir, no sir!” Harry answered smartly, giving Lockwood a last jab, then dropped on one knee to lace a boot.
An hour later the team stood assembled next to the chopper. Packs had been loaded, ice axes slung, harnesses adjusted, crampons attached to boots, and water and food divvied up to each person.
“Hold up.” Boot shrugged off his pack, shambled over to the chopper, reached into the cargo bay and retrieved a bag of bite-sized Snickers bars. Then he shuffled back to his pack and dumped the candy into a rear flap, letting out an exaggerated breath. “That was close.”
“Yeah, heaven forbid that Karo syrup you’ve been using for blood clears and turns red again,” Nowhere Man said with a chuckle.
“A body needs energy, Nowhere,” Boots said defensively.
“Forget it, Boots, and help me get everyone clipped onto the safety line,” Harry said, handing him a coil of brightly colored climbing rope.
Harry took the free end of the rope and looped it through carabiners that were clipped to each of the team members’ harnesses.
Lockwood reached down, grabbed the safety line, and held it up.
“Do you really think this is necessary, Mr. McNills?” It was back to
“Mr. McNills” after Harry’s little salute joke.
“No, I’m just a raging control freak and thought it’d be fun to have everybody on a leash.”
“We’ll be going down some pretty steep slopes, Hayden,” Amy said, trying to ease tensions. “You’ll be glad for the rope later.”
Lockwood sniffed. “Yes, all right, fine.”
The sun was now high enough to begin heating the air – and as the temperature rose, the ice began to pop and growl and groan.
“I don’t like the sound of that ice,” Boots said, pulling on his beard.
Nowhere Man laughed. “What do you expect, Boots? Basically, we’re just walking around on an ice cube in a giant salt water cocktail.”
“Well, it gives me the jimjams.”
“C’mon Harry, let’s go,” Amy said, anxious to get moving. “We’re burning daylight.”
“All right. All right…” Harry said, clipping himself to the safety line and moving to the front of the team. “Okay, listen up. Let’s keep it single file. Everybody stay in a line and try to hit each other’s footprints.”
“Yeah, but whose footprints are you gonna step in, Harry?” Boots said, trying to be clever.
“Me, I’ll be following the breadcrumb trail Amy and I left last time, Boots.” Harry shook his head. “Now zip it and let me finish.”
Boots began to scan the ice, contemplating the possibilities of a breadcrumb trail.
“There are a couple of tricky places – but really, Amy and I had no problems last time. We’ve got more gear and bodies this trip, but if we take our time, I don’t see any big problems.” Harry scanned their faces. “Any questions?”
Nowhere Man hooked his thumbs through the straps of his pack and looked at Harry. “Like the lady said, Harry, we’re burning daylight.”
Just as Lockwood had suggested, Harry took the lead and started across the ice to the base of the cobalt-blue pinnacle.
The group fell silent, and the morning air filled with the sound of crunching footsteps as heavy boots and metal crampons bit into the icy surface.
The going was slow at first as everybody concentrated on their footing and adjusted to walking with crampons and trekking poles. Any little undulation in the surface ice had the potential to snag a crampon and send the trekker tumbling face first onto the ice.
The team had been moving for less than five minutes when they had to come to a complete halt so Boots could fish out his sunglasses and secure them tightly around his face.
It was a little before 10 a.m. now, and the sun was strong enough to turn the iceberg into a blinding island of ice. Moving again, with Boots smiling like an idiot and happily wearing his shades, Harry was able to locate the old trail – and with confidence building, picked up the pace.
Chapter 19
A half-hour later they were moving through the interior of the iceberg and fighting up a steep ridge of ice. No one spoke, as all their energy went into keeping their footing.
“This is more of a trek than I expected,” Lockwood said, sounding close to winded.
“Feeling your age, doctor?” Harry said, glancing back with a smile.
“No. I’m feeling the thirty pounds on my back.”
“Well, nothing’s easy, is it?” Harry pointed to the tip of the ridge. “Almost there. Five more minutes and we can take a break at the top.” Harry turned and called back to Nowhere Man, “Everyone okay?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Nowhere Man answered, jamming his boots into the
ice and pulling in a lungful of air.
Amy, seemingly unfazed by the climb and as fresh as the moment they started out, unclipped the safety line and shot up to the top of the ridge. Once there she began searching the ice… and after a few more steps bent down, gripped something in her glove, then sprang up and called down to Harry:
“Harry! I found the rope. It’s still here.”
Harry played out some safety line, allowing him to move ahead of the group and join Amy on the ridge top. “Yeah, I left it here. Call it a sixth sense thing. Somehow I knew we’d be back.”
They shrugged off their packs, turned, and watched the others plod up the last few feet.
The moment Lockwood hit the top of the ridge, he doubled over, placed his hands on his knees, and with chest heaving, gasped to catch his breath.
“Too much single malt scotch and Cuban cigar smoke last night, doctor?”
“You may have me there, Harry,” Lockwood rasped, pulling in another lungful of air.
So it was back to first names, Harry thought. Lockwood not holding a grudge about the General MacArthur comment.
Lockwood felt a tug on the safety line, and Boots and Nowhere Man trudged up to join the group at the top.
Boots immediately threw off his pack and sat down on the ice. He pulled open the bag of mini Snickers bars, grabbed one, tore off the wrapper – and like an addict needing his fix, devoured the candy bar in one bite. He immediately plucked out another, shredded the wrapper, popped it into his mouth and, chewing, fell back on the ice with his eyes closed.
Nowhere Man stood looking down at Boots blissfully chewing away. “I swear Boots, you get more worked up over a candy bar than most people do over sex.”
Lockwood had finally recovered and was standing next to Harry taking small sips from a bottle of water. “You have quite a life here, Harry. Very romantic. Living on the edge of the Arctic, bush pilot – and here you are today running around on an iceberg in the middle of the Atlantic.”
“Yeah, that’s me… Mr. Adventure. I’ll tell you what, being out here would be a lot more romantic if I was getting paid for it.”
“Well, my understanding was you volunteered. You didn’t have to come along, Harry.”
“Funny, it didn’t feel like it at the time,” Harry laughed. “Truth is, I’m out here for only one reason.”
“Your curiosity got the better of you?”
“Nope. The oldest reason in the world – a woman.” Harry glanced over at Amy as he said it – and Amy, who’d been half listening in, gave him a coy look and said, “Hold on just one minute. I didn’t make you, I asked you.”
“Uh-huh,” Harry said flatly.
“Ah, now I understand,” Lockwood said. “Yes, it’s all coming clear. I’ve noticed you two have developed quite an attraction for one another.”
“What can I say,” Harry grinned. “Bush pilots have more fun.”
“All those years in med school…” Lockwood said, looking wistfully at Amy. “I suddenly lament the fact I never learned to fly.”
“You, a bush pilot ?” Amy said. “I don’t see you as the type.”
“Cruel world,” Lockwood said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much, Harry – our Dr. Tyler here is all business.”
“Okay, gentlemen, enough already,” Amy said, throwing up her hands. “Please, let’s change the subject. I’m starting to get self-conscious here. Besides, I think it’s time we began our descent.”
“Fine by me,” Harry said, moving over to the rope that was anchored in the ice.
He lifted the line, tugged on it to check that it was still secure, and glanced over at Boots – who was still flat on his back looking like he’d fallen asleep.
“C’mon Boots, on your feet…” Then he turned to the others and said, “Everybody ready to start down?”
Chapter 20
The safety line had been stowed in a pack, as the team had decided that it would be safer for each person to make their own way down the slope using the anchor line.
Harry double-checked the line and was the first one to step off the lip of the ridge and start down the slope.
Holding the line in one hand and his ice axe in the other – and then toeing in his crampons with each downward step – he reached the flat ice at the bottom in less than ten minutes.
Since Amy was familiar with the ridge, she would be the last one down.
Everyone stood and watched as she picked her way down the slope like an expert climber. As she dropped onto the ice, Nowhere Man whistled and said, “Spider-Man couldn’t have done it better.”
“That was nothing,” Amy laughed. “You should see me moving around Manhattan at rush hour.”
“All these hidden talents,” Lockwood said, staring at Amy. “I’m very impressed, Dr. Tyler.”
Amy stamped a foot, trying to knock loose a chunk of ice that was wedged into the toe of her crampon. “I’m thinking of taking these things home with me.”
“Now that I’d love to see,” Harry laughed. “Crampons in Manhattan.”
The group re-formed and, with Harry in the lead, started forward again.
The trip to the base of the pinnacle was flat and straightforward except for a few large outcrops of ice that would require a detour. The weather was holding and the way was clear.
Harry decided that the safety line was unneeded and, in fact, would’ve been a hindrance – so the group proceeded forward across the ice, walking informally side by side.
They talked quietly amongst themselves, and every once in a while Boots would laugh at something Nowhere Man just said. But most of the time they were too busy staring at the magnificent icy wonderland that they were passing through.
About halfway to the pinnacle, just before they reached the first outcrop of ice, the air filled with a chilling roar! The team froze in their tracks. Everyone dropped into a defensive crouch and looked anxiously around for the source of the sound.
Then, without warning, an adult male polar bear exploded out from behind the outcrop of ice, rose up on its hind legs – and let out another blood-curdling roar.
No one moved. Or breathed.
The bear suddenly dropped to the ice – and like a bullet shot from a rifle, it attacked, charging directly toward them at a terrible speed.
Amy screamed.
Harry yelled, “Don’t run!” Then, “Tuck into a ball and cover your neck.”
The bear was closing fast – a huge white mass of flashing teeth and slashing claws.
Taking Harry’s lead, they all fell to the ice and curled up, locking their hands as tightly as they could behind their necks.
All of them, that is, except Boots.
Boots stood frozen in his tracks, staring dumbly at the bear as it gobbled up the distance between them.
Then he yelled and took off running…
Harry sprang up. “Boots, no! Don’t run!”
But Boots’s legs kept pumping. And deaf with fear, he fled for his life.
The fleeing prey attracted the bear. It locked onto Boots, angling directly toward him – and moving even faster now, had become a churning white locomotive of death…
Thirty, twenty, ten feet… and the bear leapt into the air, crashing into Boots and pinning him to the ice. The bear roared, threw Boots across the ice like a rag doll, then fell onto him, tearing into the pack on his back.
Harry grabbed his trekking pole and was going to try and scare the bear off, when –
Amy suddenly leapt up, threw off her pack, and ran directly toward the bear, yelling at the top of her lungs.
Harry said, “Oh, shit,” shed his pack and racing after her yelled, “Amy! Stop!”
Ignoring him, Amy kept charging forward until she was only a few feet from the bear.
Suddenly, aware of Amy, the bear released Boots and swiveled around. Face to face with her, it displayed its deadly teeth, then shook its head back and forth and roared.
Amy’s heart thudded in her chest
. Her vision collapsed, narrowing into a tunnel as adrenaline flooded her system. Her mind was screaming: run!
The bear rose up. Amy planted her feet. Just as she was about to be smothered in a furry death – she thrust a fist directly at the bear’s face – and a viscous steam of liquid shot out from a canister, pasting the bear squarely across its muzzle.
The bear screamed in pain and shock. Then, shaking its head and snorting loudly, it turned tail and ran for the safety of the sea.
Harry skidded up to Amy – and she fell back into his arms.
“What the hell was that?”
Amy held up her hand revealing the small canister. “Pepper spray.”
“Jesus,” Harry said, letting out his breath, relieved that she was okay. “Pepper spray? I can’t believe it! I can’t believe you just chased off a polar bear with pepper spray.”
Amy laughed, but Harry could see she was still shaken. “I must’ve forgotten to tell you I was a Girl Scout.”
“I’ll bet you were a terror.”
Suddenly they heard Boots moan and then try to move.
Harry and Amy rushed to his side, joined by a stunned Lockwood and a silent Nowhere Man.
Harry knelt beside Boots and said, “Don’t try to move.” He placed a hand on Boots’ shoulder. “Boots, can you speak?”
“Jesus H, I think I pissed my pants, Harry,” Boots said in a muffled voice, his face pinned to the ice.
“Boots, can you move your arms and legs?”
“I can make a goddamned snow angel if you want, Harry.” Boots unstuck his face from the ice and looked at Harry. “Now could you please get me off this ice?”
“Hang on, Boots. I want to check your back to see if you’re bleeding anywhere.”
“Let me give you a hand with that pack, Harry,” Nowhere Man said crouching next to Boots. “God, look at this thing,” he said, holding up a twisted piece of aluminum from the pack’s frame.
Harry and Nowhere Man cut the straps. As they lifted the shredded pack, half- chewed candy bars spilled across the ice.