Raising the Past Read online

  Nicole’s interest was peeked. “What artifact?”

  Sighing, Eddy said, “We found…something wrapped in the woman’s arms.”

  “What was it?” Steve asked.

  Eddy looked into Steve’s eyes. “We don’t know. It looked modern.”

  “More than modern,” Kevin said. “Futuristic.”

  “Kevin, c’mon. There’s no need to make everyone more afraid.” Eddy focused on Kevin’s glossed and dilated eyes. “Kev, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” Kevin said, as he stopped walking and took in every living person. “Why would I not be? I know what happened. I know we’re all going to die. We shouldn’t have dug it up…but we did and now it’s going to kill us all.”

  Eddy held Kevin’s arms and looked him in the eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  Kevin returned Eddy’s stare, his eyes beginning to clear. “I saw them. Just before it hit. I saw them inside the device. I saw them.”

  Eddy knew he had to change Kevin’s train of thought. He was drifting from shock to paranoia. “Kevin, listen. It was a storm, and you have to stay calm. We all have to stay calm or we're not going to make it. The device we found is down there.” Eddy motioned to the top of the research tent with his head. “It's back in the ice, okay? It's gone.”

  Kevin blinked and looked at the top of the bright orange research tent. “It’s gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me?”

  “You know I wouldn’t.”

  “Okay.” Kevin’s arms relaxed and his stance became normal. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay. Thanks, Eddy.”

  Eddy nodded and turned to the group. He buried what he was truly thinking in some deep dark hole of his soul and began speaking. “We've encountered some kind of unprecedented atmospheric event. We need to find a communication device and see if we can raise Sam and Mary. If not, we need to salvage what we can and get back to Base Camp ourselves. That means food and transportation for seven. We'll camp in the backhoe box tonight and move out in the morning.”

  “What about…?” Nicole looked around the area, her eyes following the carnage of twisted metal and frozen body parts. “We can’t just leave them.”

  Eddy closed his eyes, trying to squeeze every image of death from his mind. “We’ll come back for them.”

  Silence fell over the group. What they now had to do felt colder than the air. Eddy found the small portion of himself that was still willing to fight, even at the brink of death—a parting gift from Jim, before he had died in Venezuela. “Listen up people,” Eddy said with a loud voice as though he were a general about to storm the beaches of Normandy. “This isn't about science anymore. Forget the mammoth. Screw the DNA samples. This is about survival. We need to push our emotions down, stay in control. We'll never get out of this if we all start cracking under the pressure.”

  Eddy turned his back on the group, surveying the damage and hiding his wet eyes. “Steve, Paul, Nicole, you're on transportation. Find anything that moves and make it work. The rest of us will take care of the food and other supplies. Too many people have died here today, and I’ll be damned before I let anything happen to anyone else. We’re going to survive this mess, I promise you that.”

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  After several hours of digging through several feet of ice, searching for food and equipment, Eve was exhausted. She was used to digging; they all were, but smashing through a wall of compact snow was jarring to hands and hard on the joints. However, the painful labor paid off. They dug up enough supplies to carry them home—with severe rationing of course, but it would keep them alive. But all the concerns and logistics of surviving in the arctic were fading from her mind, replaced by a single concern: where was Eddy?

  Eddy had walked away after they had extricated a supply case containing food and water. At first she thought that he was off to oversee some of Steve and Paul’s efforts at finding them transportation, but when she looked, they hadn’t talked to or even seen him. Eve found Norwood and Kevin pulling a snowmobile with a broken windshield from the dense snow, and neither of them knew where Eddy was, either. She spun in all directions, scouring the landscape for movement, and found nothing. Then darkness caught her eyes: the backhoe box, with its open wall looking dim and inviting to anyone not wanting to be found.

  Eddy was hiding, and that frightened Eve the most. They needed Eddy now more than ever. She needed Eddy.

  The snow beneath her feet crunched as she approached the large, dark opening of the backhoe box. She held still and listened. Wind whistled in her ear, but then grew louder, like a moaning. Eve realized that it wasn’t just wind she heard, it was Eddy. He was sobbing like a small child who’d just been scolded. Eve wiped her own tears from her cheeks before they froze. She’d only seen Eddy cry once before and she had hoped she’d never see it again, because tears from Eddy meant that something awful had happened. And it had. Eddy’s worst nightmare had been realized ten-fold. The death toll had gone from three in Venezuela to more than thirty in the Arctic. She wondered if he would ever be himself again. She prayed he would.

  Eve climbed into the backhoe box and was enveloped by darkness. A voice, trying to sound strong, spoke from the black, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Eddy.”

  “Not now.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Tell me where you are. It’s too dark in here.” With her last words, Eve’s foot caught on something hard and she toppled forward, falling to the floor; the impact echoed off the metal walls.

  Before Eve could get to her knees, she felt two strong hands grasping her shoulders. “I have you. Are you okay?”

  Eve smiled in the dark, knowing her grin wouldn’t be seen. She had tripped on purpose, knowing that if there was an iota of Eddy—the real Eddy—left, he would be by her side in an instant. “I’m not hurt.”

  “What are you doing here?” Eddy said, as he sniffed away some unseen tears.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Is everyone finished?”

  “No. I was worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  Eve’s mind struggled. The true answer would be so easy to say, but she felt it was the wrong time. They were all emotionally broken and any positive response she might get could turn out to be fueled by a desperate need for love, for comfort. “I know this is hard for you. You’re our leader and we need you to survive.” She lied.

  “Oh,” he said with a weak voice.

  Was he disappointed?

  “Well, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just needed to think things through. Wanted to be alone to figure out what to—”

  “Eddy.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Eddy was silent for a moment, but then a light sniffling noise and the sound of a shaking snow suit told Eve that he was crying again. Eve reached through the darkness and wrapped her arms around Eddy, pulling him toward her and leaning against the metal wall of the backhoe box. Eddy’s head rested on Eve’s chest and he held her tight, sobbing into her wool sweater. She ran her fingers through his hair and rocked him like a child. “Eddy,” she said, “you know this wasn’t your fault. You know there was nothing anyone could have done. You know that what we encountered out here was something no one has ever seen before and there was no way to have prepared for it.”

  Eddy’s breathing evened out and his grip relaxed. He was listening.

  “It was a catastrophic accident. But not everyone died. Kevin, Steve, Paul, they still need you. I need you.”

  Eddy’s head grew heavy on her chest; he was asleep. Eve leaned down and placed her face against his. “I love you,” she whispered, feeling the warmth of his cheek against hers.

  “I love you, too,” came a barely audible response.

  Eve sat up straight, surprised from the words that had escaped Eddy’s mouth. “Eddy?”

/>   Nothing.

  “Eddy?”

  He shifted and mumbled something unintelligible.

  Asleep.

  Did he know what he had said? Eve sighed and leaned back against the wall. She decided she would ask him, if they survived, but with death all around them, this wasn’t the best time to talk about love or to start a relationship. She knew they would have to make some tough decisions in the days to come and she didn’t want more emotions confusing Eddy or clouding his judgment. She loved Eddy more than anyone else on the planet, but she decided that withholding her affections would be the best thing for him, for all of them…just as soon as he woke up.

  ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

  Eddy woke and found his face in Eve’s lap. He sat up straight, feeling renewed strength and a fresh outlook on the world. He remembered Eve coming in, holding him, comforting him, but the words she spoke as he drifted to sleep escaped him now, like a fading dream. Whatever she said, it had worked and he felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead…as long as they didn’t face another freak storm.

  “Eve,” he said.

  Her eyes blinked open and looked into his. Her vision had adjusted to the darkness and she could see his face clearly. She smiled. “You’re awake.” Eve looked at her glowing watch. “We’ve been sleeping for two hours.”

  Eddy stretched, rolled his neck and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “How are you doing?” She asked.

  “Better… Thanks for helping.”

  “What are friends for?”

  Eddy smiled dully and looked at Eve. His stomach turned as her dark eyes drew him in and held him captive. He knew if he didn’t say something, the silent stare would become awkward.

  Too late.

  “What?” Eve asked with a wrinkled forehead.

  Eddy’s mind swirled in every direction, searching for an answer that wouldn’t make him look like a buffoon.

  “Hey, guys! There you are!” A flashlight cut through the darkness and exposed them. The light was annoyingly bright, but Eddy was thankful for the interruption. “Hey, you guys weren’t getting frisky or something, cause I can come ba—”

  “Steve.” It was all Eve needed to say.

  “Sorry,” Steve said. “Hey, we’re all set out here. Come see what we’ve dug up.”

  After a quick climb out of the backhoe box and a short walk to the side of a rescued Sno-Cat, Eddy faced the remaining members of his crew. Eve stood to his side while Norwood, Nicole, Steve, Kevin and Paul sat on the treads of the Cat. To the side were two fully functional snowmobiles—enough transportation for them all and any recovered supplies. “Okay, so we have transportation taken care of.” Eddy nodded to Steve and Paul. “Good work.”

  Paul nodded. Steve smiled.

  “But communications are still a problem.” Eddy reached into a backpack at his feet and pulled out a smashed satellite phone, which looked thick and awkward. “This is the only satellite phone.” Eddy handed the radio to Paul. “I need you to fix it.”

  Paul looked at the broken phone with a raised eyebrow, almost laughing. “The bad news is, there ain’t no way in hell this is gonna get fixed. The good news is, we know where we are and can communicate locally.” Paul reached into his pockets and pulled out three small devices, which looked like yellow walkie-talkies. “I give you three Garmin Rino GPS Receivers.”

  Steve said, “They’ve been preprogrammed with a map of the Canadian Arctic and can show our location within ten feet. But they also serve as two-way communicators. Each has about 20 hours of juice and we should use them sparingly, but they should get us out of here.”

  Eddy was smiling widely. “How did…?”

  “Hey, I’m the equipment specialist,” Steve said. “And you told me to take every precaution. We could have used Superman, but I thought portable GPS and communication could come in handy. So, ah, there you go. I’m the man.”

  “You are indeed the man,” Eddy said, as he took one of the GPS units and looked it over. “Good work.” He turned to Norwood. “How are we on food?”

  “Enough for a week if we ration it right, but we… What?”

  Eddy’s eyes were no longer focused on Norwood’s. He was staring behind Norwood, behind the Sno-Cat. “Behind you,” Eddy said.

  The group turned at once. Steve twisted with surprise and rolled off the tread and fell to the snow, but no one noticed. All eyes were locked on the five men standing on the other side of the Cat.

  “Who the hell are they?” Steve asked.

  The oldest of the men, with dark brown skin and marbleized hair hidden beneath a tightly-woven, red winter cap, stepped forward and pushed aside his fur covered cloak to reveal a long, worn spear. “I am an elder of the Inuit people of the North. We are here to help.”

  13

  THE INUIT

  The five strange men stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder, staring at Eddy through dark brown eyes. They were dressed in furs from head to toe, looking more like the cavewoman Eddy and crew had extracted from the mammoth than modern men of the twentyfirst century. What bothered him most was the familiarity of the elder. It wasn’t the face or voice that reminded Eddy of someone; it was the man’s presence. Eddy couldn’t place it, but he was sure he had known this man before…maybe long ago.

  From left to right, ending at the elder, Eddy recounted their names. “Andari, Hoder, Vayu, Re…Reginn? And Marutas. Did I get them all?”

  Marutas nodded.

  Eddy decided to look past their oddity and get right down to business. If these men were here to help, he sorely needed it, but a few questions nagged at Eddy’s mind. He did his best to not sound suspicious. “Let me see if I understand you correctly. You saw the storm from a distance. Correct?”

  Marutas, the elder wearing the red winter cap, nodded.

  “Okay, so you saw the storm and came to investigate. You have no modern equipment, no snowmobiles, no GPS…and no dogs. You came here on foot.”

  Marutas nodded again.

  Eddy squinted his eyes. “We’re hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement. How did you get here on foot? It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just find it amazing.”

  Marutas looked out over the snow, gesturing toward it with open arms. “Our people have been living this way for thousands of years. Survival has always been a priority for my kind and this land holds many secrets that ensure our subsistence.” The elder lowered his arms and turned toward Eddy. “Tell me, did you unearth anything before the storm?”

  Eddy’s mind sounded a mental warning. These men knew more than they were leading him to believe. Could the storm that dumped several feet of compact snow and killed his crew and friends have been created by man? Could these men have something to do with it? The notion was too unbelievable. These men wore fur. Manipulating the weather was far beyond their capabilities. Still, Eddy decided it was best to be cautious. “Nothing of interest…”

  Eddy knew that wouldn’t do. His mother had been a gem with small children and he’d watched her redirect them mid-conversation, avoiding conflict at every turn. He had picked up the habit and soon learned it worked just as well on adults, if not better. “Well, hey, I'm glad you came. We could use some help navigating out of here. Can you spare a few days? We'll compensate you for your time.”

  Marutas nodded.

  Eddy smiled. It worked.

  “Helping to save your lives is compensation enough,” Marutas said.

  “Thank you.”

  Eddy was about to turn to his remaining crew, who had been standing by the Cat, listening to the conversation with eager ears. But his voice never had a chance to escape his lungs.

  “You will stay here tonight. We will guide you out in the morning.”

  It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Eddy, for one, never enjoyed being told what to do. It’s why he was a leader.

  Who does he think he is? Eddy thought with irritation.

  If this man, this crotchety Inuit, hadn’t been a possible means
of survival, Eddy would have told him off right there. But he decided a bit of tact would serve them better. “A wise idea, Marutas, but—” was all Eddy got out before the old man looked angry, his brows furrowing into deep lines.

  Eddy pressed on. “If you don’t mind, many of our friends died beneath the ice we stand on. We would like to camp a short distance from here. Out of respect for the dead.”

  The elder’s face relaxed and he nodded. “Of course,” he said. “And we will remain nearby. To ward off the angry spirits of your friends.”

  The old Inuit turned and walked away. The four others turned and followed him.

  Eddy turned to his crew and spoke when he was sure the Inuit men were out of earshot. “What do you think?”

  “Gives me the creeps,” Steve said.

  “I agree,” Norwood added. “There’s something off about them. I can’t place it.”

  “We should trust them,” Kevin said with urgency. “They might be our best chance of getting out of this mess. And we should try not to insult them.”

  “We all agree with you,” Eddy said, “but being cautious includes scrutinizing everything, even would-be rescuers.”

  “He’s right,” Eve said. “We don’t know these men. We don’t know why they’re out here in the first place. I personally find it hard to believe they’re this far from civilization without transportation or supplies. I don’t care how in tune with nature you are; to survive in the Arctic, you need more than those men have.”

  “A camp?” Norwood asked.

  “That would be my guess. And that means they’re not being honest with us.”

  “Well it’s not like we’re being honest with them.” Kevin crossed his arms. “Eddy didn’t tell them what we found in the ice when they asked.”

  “I didn’t tell them because they asked. Let’s say they have a camp. What’s the worst case scenario?”

  “If they have a camp,” Eve started, “they could be after our equipment. They know we’ve got two snowmobiles and a Sno-Cat. Out here, that’s worth a small fortune. They could go back to their camp, get weapons, ammo, maybe more men, and be back by morning to do us in and take the equipment.”