Frozen Hands

Chapter One

Friday, 8 p.m.

Lizzie was working hard on her report of her latest research. She had found a skeleton of a young female from the 19th century. This was her favourite time period to study, she loved the modernisation of the country in that period.

She was typing away at het big desk, she had her own office. "Fuck me!" She yelled when her laptop wasn't working as quickly as she wanted. "Piece of crap.." She mumbled. Her laptop had a crack in the screen and workes slower ever since she dropped her shovel on it. It all felt like some kind karma-punishment.

Elizabeth Lovelace was a 25 year old archaeologist from Bath. Lizzie had short red hair, people told her it looked like fire. Her eyes are emerald green but when the sun shines in her eyes they turned golden. She was one of the best in her department. She was working for the University of Cambridge and specialised in osteology, the study of bones.

Today she was wearing one of her usual outfits, a white linen blouse paired with army green trousers and black boots. Het coworkers joked she always looked like Indiana Jones but she didn't care. Lizzie liked his style after all.

Lizzie had just finished the final chapter on her report when her phone rang. Steve showed up on the screen.

"Lovelace" she said when she answered the phone. "Why are calling at this late hour? Aren't you off the clock?" She asked, slightly annoyed.

"Wow calm down Liz, it's just me." Steve replied. "Besides, it's important."

"Eleborate." She snapped.

"I'm working on an excavation here in Iceland, just outside Reykjavik. There was a cave nearby the excavation and when I was on my break I went to take a look. I stumbled across something, well someone. I already called Mark and he's on his way and you should come too. I think the person is still alive." Steve explained in a single breath. Lizzie could tell he was freaking out, very out of character for him.

But all she did was laugh."Alive?! How can a person frozen in ice still be alive? Besides, I'm specialised in osteology, not mummy's frozen in ice."

"Lizzie, please." Steve begged. "You're the best archaeologist I know, and I need someone I can trust on this. Mark, you and I are the only ones who know about this ice-man. Please come, just like old times?" Steve said with a hint desperation in his voice.

Elizabeth groaned. "Fine. For old times sake. Also, stop begging. It's not a good colour on you, it's embarrassing."

Steve laughed. "Thank you, I owe you."

"You owe me a plane ticket." She replied. "How much is a last minute plane ticket to Reykjavik anyway?"