In the end, most of the group decides to stay aboard the ship. Even as Dr. Larnyard and about a third of our team prepares to take a few rafts to the nearest ice floe, I keep watching the radio, willing someone to call and say conditions have improved enough for them to fly in and rescue us. It’s not safe on this ship. I know that, but it’s our best hope.
I watch through the porthole when Dr. Larnyard and his contingency load into a few rafts, insulated in their extreme-weather gear and pressing into the howling winds.
“Fool,” David mutters from my left.
“Asshole,” Grim adds from my right.
“I hope they don’t regret leaving.” I blow out a worried breath. “Hell, I hope we don
’t regret staying. Any word from anyone?”
“Nope,” Grim says. “Visibility is shit, and no one with half a brain would risk trying to fly into this storm right now. It’d be signing their own death warrant.”
I hope we haven’t signed ours.
* * *
It’s only been a few hours when we hear a shout from outside. Grim, David and I run to the porthole.
“Shit,” I say through clenched teeth “I told that stupid bastard.”
If it wasn’t for the bright red jacket, I wouldn’t be able to make out the figure bobbing in the icy water through the sleet and snow. A tent floats not too far from him, picked up and tossed carelessly by the screeching winds.
“Larnyard,” Grim mutters.
“Is he dead?” David asks.
The frantic movement of Larnyard’s arms answers his question.
“We have to help him,” I say, crossing our room to grab my puffy jacket and slip on my extreme-weather gear.
“Motherfucker,” Grim says. “I’m not risking my life for that buffoon.”
“Well I am. If you can live with yourself knowing a man drowned not even a hundred feet away and you did nothing, go right ahead. Not me.”
“King, you can’t,” David says, grabbing me by the arm. “You gonna die for that idiot?”
“We have to try. At least let’s talk to the captain to see what he says.”
Captain Rosteen already stands at the railing, his grip white-knuckled as he holds on against the wind.
“What can we do, Cap?” I ask, tugging the woolen toboggan lower over my ears.
He shakes his head, resignation in his eyes. “Someone would have to go out in that to get him.” He tilts his head toward the roiling waves, rising walls of water surrounded by icebergs. “I won’t. We all heard you urge him to stay.”
“So lesson learned?” I ask, anger and disbelief warring inside me. “Yeah, he made a dumb call.”
“The last of many,” Grim interjects.
“But we have to try.” I swallow my own dread. “I have to try. I’m not asking you to go. Just help me.”
Captain Rosteen looks doubtful, but then nods. “We could tie a rope around you, put a lifejacket on you and send you out in a raft.”
The wind whips so hard against the glass of the bridge’s windows, it’s almost like the storm is daring me to take up such a foolhardy mission.
“Let’s do it.”
“King,” Grim snaps, grabbing my elbow. “You idiot. I’m not letting you do this.”