Days of Horror

Day 6: Warmest Place To Hide

October 15, 1982. Fifty Miles off the Coast of Antartica.

Joan Russel didn't hesitate. She didn't have a second thought or a moment of panic.

All she did was take in a deep gulp of air, probably the last breathe of air she would ever take.

And then dove off the S.S Carpenter's railing, down towards the icy waters nearly twenty feet below.

For a moment, Joan felt like she was hanging in mid air, like someone had tied a bit of string to her back. She could see everything.

She could see the black waves crash into the ship, waves that may soon crush her.

She saw her long brown hair fly in front of her face, the wind flinging it about.

And she watched as the once mighty ship titled higher into the sky, flames licking at the heavens.

For that single moment, everything seemed peaceful. Calm. Normal.

And the string holding Joan Russel up snapped and she tumbled down to the waiting sea below.

She hit the water with a mammoth sized splash. The moment Joan hit the water, her body instantly felt frozen. Her eyes, drooping with exhaustion, shot wide open as the icy water closed around her head.

Clothes and exhaustion weighing her down, Joan somehow managed to pull herself up from beneath the waters surface, gasping for breathe.

Shivering, her numb arms and legs treading for water, she watched as the cargo ship's side explode and water rush in, making it slip rapidly beneath the waves.

With luck, anything still onboard would be drowned or burned in the next few hours.

Including Joan.

It was a fact that the waters of Antartica were some of the deadliest waters in the world.

When the Titanic sank, half of the people who survived had to face waters with temperatures of -2 degrees Celsius. Out of the 1,500 people who died on that ship, there's a good chance half of them died in the freezing waters.

The longest anyone lived in the water was usually around the 15 minute mark.

"And with luck," Joan thought to herself morbidly. "So will I."

She could already feel hypothermia beginning to sink in. Her eyes were starting to droop again, arms and legs becoming more numb with each stroke.

Honestly, she shouldn't even be trying to stay afloat. If not for her deep survival instincts, Joan would already be sinking beneath those inky waves.

Joining the rest of her crew in Davey Jones's locker where they all belonged.

She hadn't always been this pessimistic. A few days ago, she was actually one of the more optimistic people living on the S.S Carpenter. She always looked on the bright side, even when she was stuck out in the ocean for weeks, even months on end.

The S.S Carpenter was a cargo ship that made deliveries to several research stations located throughout the world. The ship carried all sorts of supplies–food, water, research equipment–anything they needed. From the dunes of Egypt to the jungles of South America, the S.S Carpenter had been to several different and uneventful stops.

Their final stop was all the way up in the Antarctica. At a place called U.S outpost #31.

Every time they stopped by, all they needed to do was wait for a helicopter pilot, a guy named MacReady, to fly by, pick up the supplies, and fly off again. Every few months, they'd do this. It was honestly a treat for the crew. Probably one of the best parts of the entire trek.