Deep Ice Read Free Page A

his face and looked around. It was easy enough to work out what had happened. He’d been covered lightly with snow and left for dead. But, even if he might for all he knew be mortally wounded, he was certainly far from dead yet. How long he’d been there he couldn’t say. The deep blue of night was giving way to a soft peachy glow at the edge of the world. He recognized the lighting as the crack of dawn. He felt his side, where he hurt the most. “Fuck!” He took off his right glove and pushed a finger into the tear in his parka. It touched warm wetness, then the pain prevented further exploration of the wound. He careful y probed his chest. His middle finger slipped rudely into a clean hole 9 millimeters in width.
    “Shit! I’m killed for sure.”
    But he wasn’t killed and he knew it. He touched the crushed plastic-and-metal shell of his radio, the broken radio he’d carried in the pocket over his heart. His chest hurt like hel, but the deflected bullet had only grazed his ribs and ripped his parka.
    He fell backwards into the snow in relief and amazement and stared into the sky. Above him, the aurora and the Southern Cross combined to greet his eyes.
    “Well, that useless piece of crap saved my life,” he said into the face of heaven. “Is that some shit or what?” Then he remembered his gear, his sled. . . his dogs. He rose to his feet and looked around. He could barely make out in the soft light the overturned frame of his sled and, next to it, the bodies of his dogs.
    “Sadie?” he said. When he turned to run to the sled he felt a pain in his shoulder. A second shot must have grazed his shoulder.
    But he was going to live.
    He counted the bodies of four of the dogs. Sadie and Shep were nowhere to be seen.
    Henry knew he’d have to wait for daylight before he did anything else. He had a flashlight but was afraid to use it. The people who had shot him might not be far away.
    He righted the sled and fell into it with a groan.
    In a few minutes he was asleep, with only the stars and the aurora to cover him.
    When he awoke again the sun was above the horizon. His chest and side hurt terribly when he took a breath. He coughed twice and grimaced with pain. Then he heard the soft whimpering of a dog. Maybe a hundred feet away, Shep was standing over the body of one of his followers.
    Henry struggled to his feet and surveyed the area. There was no trace of his would-be killers. Even their tracks had been erased. They had covered his packs with snow, but not deeply. He could see they must have given his things a quick search, then left.
    Shep was still standing over the other dog, whining. Henry hurried to Shep’s side to find his worst fears realized. His beloved Sadie was lying on her side, cold and stiff. Like the rest of his dogs, she’d been cut down with automatic weapons. She’d been hit three times. All around her the snow was stained pink with blood.
    He fell to his knees and wept.
    #
    The only thought that comforted him was that Sadie probably hadn’t suffered. She’d died with four other dogs, and death had likely come instantly. He guessed his other dogs had been killed as well, but he could find no trace of them.
    He still had his sled, and with some difficulty he was able to find most of his gear. It had been strewn around after being searched, then buried under a foot or so of snow – just enough to make it invisible to an aerial- survey team. Some of his food was gone, but he managed to find a few high-energy snacks and his water. Eventually he even discovered his compass and field glasses.
    While he was digging around trying to locate his gear under the snow, Shep ran off to the east. Henry called after him, but the dog kept running.
    “Shit, they fucked you up too,” muttered the meteorologist. He watched helplessly as Shep disappeared into the distance behind the ice hill.
    Sitting on the back of the sled, Henry took stock of his situation. It was clear he’d never get back to McMurdo