Icebound (4 page)

“Tom,” she interrupted, watching Mark’s face redden from lack of air. “Let go of him.”

“This moron needs to be taught a lesson.”

Emilie put her hand on Tom’s arm. “Damn it, Tom, he can’t breathe.” She shoved at his shoulder, and he flung himself from Mark, who sank to his knees, gasping and coughing.

No one spoke for several long seconds as Mark’s breathing returned to normal. He glanced fearfully at Tom. “Can I, uh…pack my stuff?”

Tom didn’t react for a moment, then nodded once.

Mark got to his feet and lurched out of the room.

Tom remained where he was, his face shuttered.

Where had all that anger come from, and where did it go so fast? “Thank you for arriving when you did. He wasn’t too interested in taking no for an answer.”

Tom gave her the same abrupt head bob he’d given Mark. “I’m sorry, it will never happen again.” He turned on his heel and was gone.

Did he mean what he’d done or what Mark had done?

Bob said Tom was protective, but the anger and violence she witnessed spoke to something deeper and darker than the normal protective instincts a big man might have for a woman.

She wasn’t the only one who had baggage to unload, who needed to talk.

For the first time since she’d arrived, Emilie felt like she’d encountered something she knew how to deal with. Pain, anger and guilt—all-too-familiar emotions.

“Mark is gone.”

Tom had appeared and disappeared so many times over the past few days she’d almost gotten used to him standing in the doorway, watching silently as she organized the clinic.

“Oh?” Emilie said, glancing up from the personnel files she was reviewing.

She’d braced herself for the crew’s inevitable questions about Mark’s assault.

None came.

Handshakes, some sympathetic nodding and a couple of hugs were the only reactions she’d received.

Tom sat on the corner of her desk. “The last flight came in. He left on it about fifteen minutes ago.”

The tightness in her gut unwound. “Thanks for letting me know.”

He nodded, but his eyes seemed to look for more. “You okay?”

“Yes, shouldn’t I be?”

He didn’t say anything for several seconds, just stared at her as if she were a puzzle with pieces missing. “Are
we
okay?”

“Of course, why would you…oh.” She blinked as she realized what he was really asking. She stood and moved so her hip was pressed to his thigh, then put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Thank you.”

His expression didn’t change. “For what?”

Was this some kind of test? “For stepping in and preventing that confrontation from going any further. For protecting me from a bully. For doing your job the best way you can.”

He grunted.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “For doing something that was hard and painful even though it was the right thing to do.”

He froze for a full second then stood and looked at her with a twist to his mouth. “You are a dangerous woman.”

She titled her head to one side. “How’s that?”

“You see too much, and not enough at the same time.”

“That makes no sense.”

He smiled, not a very big one, but a smile nonetheless. “I know. Later, Em.”

She stared at the pile of files for a long time before muttering, “Men.”

That night, she dreamed David was helping her go through the personnel files. He was telling her what he thought of Tom, when an odd noise caught her attention. She turned but David was gone.

“Emilie, wake up.”

She rolled over, tugging the blankets over her head. “David, is that you?”

Someone shook her shoulder. “Emilie, I’m sorry. I need you.”

That wasn’t David’s voice.

She shoved her sleeping bag from her face and cracked open her eyes. “Tom?”

He stood over her, his eyes concerned. She frowned. Oil and dirt smeared his face and clothes.

“Wake up,” he said. “We’ve got problems.”

She blinked. “Sorry, I was dreaming.”

“Yeah, I know.” One corner of his mouth turned in a poor imitation of a half grin. “You called me David.”

Her belly contracted. “I’m sorry…” Frost coated her nerve endings. “I don’t really remember.” She slithered out of her sleeping bag and managed to keep her hot face averted as she pulled her jeans and sweater on over the long underwear she slept in. “What happened? Why are you all dirty?”

“We had a small fire in the powerhouse.”

Her head jerked up and her heart rate doubled. “Are you all right? Is anyone injured?” She stepped into her boots and moved toward him, her gaze searching his body for wounds.

“I’m fine, but a couple of my guys sustained some burns and smoke inhalation. They’re waiting for you in Club Med.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little crispy on the outside.” He smiled then waved her off as she tried to examine him. He led her into the dimly lit hall.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“We were busy putting out the fire and the injuries weren’t life-threatening. The extreme low humidity makes it difficult to put a fire out here. Even a stray spark can start one.”

She stumbled over something in the shadows. “What happened to the lights? Shouldn’t there be an alarm ringing?”

“I turned the alarm off about three minutes ago.” He glanced at her with a small smile. “You’re a deep sleeper. We’re running on backup power right now until we can get the main generator fixed and online.”

“Just how bad was this fire?”

“All fires are bad at the Pole, but don’t worry. We should have full power back soon.”

“How will that affect my equipment?”

“You’ll be able to run some of it, but not the X-ray machine or anything that sucks a lot of juice.”

“Can I use my oxygen tanks?”

“Yeah, they should be fine. Just be extra-cautious.” He held the door to the clinic open for her, but put a hand on her arm. “Ready?”

Emilie lifted her chin, nodded then went inside.

Two men lay on gurneys in the middle of the room. Both wore insulated overalls covered with black soot. Carol stood between them, attending both men.

“Jack has some burns on his right side,” Tom said. “Wally’s got wicked sunburn on his face.” He turned to Carol. “Thanks, we’ve got it.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything. I’m baking bread for breakfast.”

“Appreciate it,” Emilie said. “Thanks.”

Both men were coughing, and she quickly assessed them. Wally’s facial burns weren’t serious, Tom’s evaluation of a sunburn reasonably accurate.

Tom had gotten Jack on an oxygen mask already. She nodded with a grateful smile. “Can you put Wally on oxygen too?”

“Sure.”

Emilie cut away some of the burned fabric on Jack’s right side and examined him carefully. “Mostly partial thickness or second-degree burns,” she told Tom. “Only a couple of full-thickness burns.” She made eye contact with Jack. “Are you in much pain?”

He lifted his left hand and waggled it up and down.

“I’ll give you something for that in a minute. I’m going to put an IV in now, okay?” She got the IV running in the back of his left hand, added a small dose of a painkiller, then turned to see how Wally was doing.

Tom started an IV in Wally’s hand and smeared his face with ointment.

“Great job, Tom,” Emilie said to him. “Thanks.”

He smiled and nodded. “Anytime. Do you need me for anything else? I’ve got to get back down to the powerhouse.”

“Nope, I’m good. How long until the main power is back on?” She began draping Jack’s wounds with bandages soaked in sterile saline.

“Maybe thirty minutes. Call me on the radio if you need help.”

“Will do.” She kept her eye on both of her patients as she worked, but both appeared stable.

Tom had done great work. Even better, they’d worked well together.

Emilie moved Jack and Wally to her two-bed ward and got them comfortable.
Two in the morning.
Hopefully they’d sleep.

She spent some time charting the treatment for both her patients, then checked on them again. Sleeping well. She turned most of the lights off and busied herself with cleaning up the gurneys, rolling one into its spot inside a closet. The other she left in the hallway where it could be returned to its designated storage area.

The main power came back on not long after that, but Emilie didn’t turn the lights up. Jack and Wally needed to sleep.

About an hour later, Tyler walked into the clinic. He stopped just inside the doors and waved.

“Hey,” she said, coming around her desk, and gestured toward the hallway outside. He slipped out and she followed. “Did you need me for something?”

“Tom’s tied up in the powerhouse, so he asked me to see how things are going here. Are Jack and Wally doing okay?”

“Yes, they’re both fine and sleeping. What about the powerhouse? How much damage was done by the fire?”

“We’re still figuring that out. One of the generators is still down, not sure for how long. We’re trying to track down the source of the fire. Tom thinks it’s electrical and Stan agrees, so they’re organizing a group to check some of the outdoor power lines and cables.”

“Tell him things are under control here.”

“Will do. Oh, he said to call him on the radio in two to three hours if he doesn’t check in with you before then.”

“Got it. Thanks for keeping me up to date.”

Tyler shrugged one shoulder. “Next to Tom, you’re top dog.”

“Really?” Was this some kind of morale-boosting talk everyone engaged in? “When did I get elevated to that status?”

“Tom made it clear during a situation briefing about two hours ago.”

Her jaw went slack. Tom made it clear?

Tyler grinned. “Later, Doc.”

Emilie stood rooted to the floor by his revelation. Why would Tom tell the crew she was second-in-command? Surely Stan held that position, or one of the other multi-skilled people on the crew.

Something to ask him when she saw him next.

Around four in the morning, after hanging new bags of saline for both her patients, she set her watch alarm for one hour and lay down on a cot she’d set up near the doorway.

When her watch alarm went off, she got up to check on Wally and Jack. Still asleep. Good.
Time to check in with Tom.
She grabbed the radio and went out in the hallway.

No answer.

She called him again.

Many long seconds later he finally responded. “Em, can you come down to the powerhouse?”

“What’s happened, another injury?” she asked, adrenaline pumping through her system, instantly bringing her to full wakefulness.

“I’m not sure yet. We’re missing a man.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Emilie tapped Carol to babysit her patients then ran toward the silver cylindrical stairwell and elevator at the end of the station everyone called the beer can because of its shape.

Downstairs, she hurried through the dark, empty hallway to the powerhouse doors and pushed her way inside. Tom was addressing what looked like half the crew.

He glanced up as she entered and waved at her to come close. “Okay, people, here’s the situation. Stan went for a walk on the beach and is now missing. He’s been gone for nearly an hour.”

Someone swore.

“I need volunteers for search-and-rescue teams geared up and in the beer can in five minutes. Any takers?”

An affirmative roar rose from thirty-odd voices and Tom put his hands up to quiet everyone down. “Thanks, guys and gals. Let’s find him and bring him home.”

People surged toward the door and Emilie dashed to one side to avoid being trampled. “Tom?”

“How well-versed are you in hypothermia recovery?” he asked as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him at the back of the pack.

“Very. I worked in Buffalo, New York, for a year as a resident. I defrosted more than a half-dozen frozen homeless people that winter and didn’t lose a one.”

“Good. I have the feeling we’re going to need all your expertise.”

They took the stairs up to the exit.

“What was Stan doing outside?” she asked, hurrying to keep up.

“Inspecting cables. A loose live wire in the powerhouse touched some metal and caused the fire when it threw off a bunch of sparks. The ice beneath us doesn’t always move the way we expect it to. Cables and wires get stretched and broken all the time. Stan went out with three other guys to make sure everything was okay. He didn’t come back.”

“The others returned?”

“Yeah, they saw him out there, but he seemed fine, doing his job, so they didn’t think anything of it when he disappeared for a minute.”

They left the stairwell and jogged down the hall toward the sleeping quarters where everyone stored their Extreme Cold Weather gear.

“But it wasn’t just for a minute, was it?” Emilie asked, coming to a stop.

Tom didn’t respond right away, pausing after a few steps as if reluctant. When he did answer it was with a curt, “No.”

“How long can someone…oh wait, is it windy out there again?”

“It’s almost always windy, but the visibility is pretty good tonight.”

“What’s the temperature?”

“Minus sixty-three Fahrenheit, but with a wind speed of eighteen miles per hour, it feels more like minus one hundred twenty.”

The air whooshed out of Emilie chest. “Oh my God. How long can he survive out there in that?”

“He’s properly suited up.” Tom’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “But not long.”

She didn’t like what she saw on his face, the tension in his muscles or the stiffness in the way he stood. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

He frowned. “I
have
told you everything.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

With a curt motion, he glanced at his watch. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Tom.” She grabbed his arm. “I need to know.”

“Stan is a good friend. The best. I can’t leave him out there to die.” Tom’s gaze contained a level of pain Emilie had only seen in patients who’d been badly scarred by more than just physical injuries.

“Did someone else die out there?”

The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched. “This is a dangerous place.”