Frostbite

Griffin

The vicious arctic wind battered my reddened face as I walked in the whirling blizzard. I drew my thick coat closer to my chest as I saw my outpost through the white snow flurry. Only a couple more minutes of cold until I reached it.

I made it to the outpost, a dull, gray building about the size of a large house, with the words "U.S. ARCTIC RESEARCH OUTPOST" painted above the door on the face of the building.

I ducked as I stumbled through the door, the cold following me until I shut the door with a loud *BANG*. The howling of the wind was suddenly cut off and the only sound that could be heard was the steady hum of the generator in the basement. After a moment of adjusting to the warmer temperature inside, I called out to the only other person present since the expedition team left 6 hours ago.

"Kooper!" I called out as I felt for the light-switch of the dark foyer.

"Evan?" He called back from the second floor. "How did it look?"

I frowned as the lights flickered on and I began to walk up the stairs. "The antenna, or the situation?" I asked as I entered the radio room at the top of the steps where Kooper sat. He spun the chair around to face me as he took the bulky, radio headphones off his shaggy, bearded face.

"Start with the antenna." He said flatly, unplugging his headphones and turning the static on the radio down to a soft hum.

"Well, the antenna's just fine." I said exasperatedly "Not a damn thing wrong with it. Checked and double checked everything, it's just peachy. So, unless you've caught anything from our guys..." He shook his head as I paused the sentence, hoping for good news. "Well in that case," I started, "We're up the creek without a paddle."

Kooper sighed and leaned back in his chair, seemingly exhausted. "The only thing I can get out of this damned radio is static. I've been at it the last 2 hours, and nothing. Nothing from our own guys and still nothing from the Swedish outpost. The last thing I heard from our guys was that they were getting pretty close to it, and then just silence." He paused thoughtfully, and muttered "What the hell is going on up there..."

I sighed and leaned against the doorframe tiredly. "Why did they decide it was a good idea to go check on those damned swedes?" I muttered, and then took a few deep breaths to compose myself. I thought for a moment before hesitantly asking, "When is that emergency rescue team supposed to get here?" My voice betrayed my desperation.

"At least another 8 hours." Replied Kooper. "They have to get the signal, load up a few choppers, and then wait for this storm to calm down enough for them to fly out here."

I put my face in my hands before snapping at him "Well what the hell are we supposed to do?! We can't just leave them out there while we sit and twiddle our thumbs!"

"What makes you think I have any idea?!" Kooper spat back at me.

I began to ball my fist up in rage when suddenly our dispute was cut short by a piercing *BANG, BANG, BANG* on the metal door. Kooper jumped out of his seat and I turned to run down the steps and towards the door. Kooper stood at the top of the staircase and watched as I grabbed the handle and heaved the door open.

The door swung open, and through the open frame a lanky body flopped on to the icy concrete floor with a soft thud, his numerous layers of thick winter clothing softening the fall. Kooper ran down the steps to help me drag him inside so we could shut the door before any more precious heat escaped. We slid him aside and I scrambled to slam shut the heavy door, once again the bang echoed throughout the building. I turned around to see that Kooper had managed to flip the man over.