The Blue (The Complete Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of ocean. But the seal’s momentum is too great. And a blood-curdling cry comes from it as it slides past me, throwing its flippers into the ice in an attempt to turn, like even though it’s been shot, it wants to change its course to continue after me. But it’s too late, and it flies off the edge, so fast that it smacks against the cliff of the Resilience floe and then splashes down into the dark water. Stay back, Russell shouts. And I step away from the edge and run over to Voley. He looks at me and quiets down, and then, like it’s only a bruise, he stands up and resumes his three-legged trot, getting as close as he can to the edge, like he’ll fight off the seal himself if it wants to come back up. I run to him and tug him back away from the open water. Then Russell calls out that he only clipped it on the arm. No death shot. And we wait, Russell leaning out, aiming down into the darkness and constantly searching the perimeter in case the seal comes up on the side again and tries to sneak around. I tell him to watch his own back too. But nothing happens. We wait and wait, and the water droplets on my body start to turn hard and my shirt stiffens into a sheet of frozen crust. And all I can think of is that Voley and I are on the wrong side of the ocean. And the stove, the only thing that will save me from hypothermia, is impossible to reach.
                He’s not coming back, I tell Russell, but he doesn’t look convinced. It’s like the rifle is glued to his face. We have to get back over, I tell him. Russell stands up straight again, like he’s considering what to do. Finally, he says it: No way to get back. And he’s right, and I realize why he didn’t try to jump over after me—if we’d all come to this side, there’d be no getting back to our supplies. I’ve done my rounds over the Resilience enough times to know, there’s no point where the Ice Pancake isn’t at least five feet below the Resilience, but in most places it’s even lower. And then there’s the gap of open ocean to leap over first. Impossible without a ladder. And Russell waits another five minutes until I tell him I’m freezing to death, and tell him the thing’s not coming back. But he’s not convinced. Don’t let this slide off, he says. Then, just like that, he tosses the rifle as far as he can onto the Ice Pancake. I walk slowly toward it, checking behind me to make sure Voley doesn’t get too close to the edge of the water. Here boy, I tell him, and we walk together and pick up the rifle. My eyes rove, expecting to spot the return of the seal at any moment. And when it doesn’t happen, and the rifle is safely in my hands, Russell tells me he’ll be right back. Where are you going? I holler after him. And all he says is that we were going to have to leave tomorrow anyway. And then, I’m all alone, watching every angle of the ice, staying as far as possible from the edges so that I’ll have plenty of time to get a shot off if the killer returns. But it doesn’t, and Russell does. And as frozen as I am, shaking uncontrollably, I shake it off enough to make sure the tent and the stove land safely over the gap. And then when he’s done throwing everything across, he tells me to start setting it up. Get the stove lit and warm up, he yells. And then he’s off again, just a pistol in his hand now.
     
    When he gets back, and I have the stove going, he throws another two bags across. Just a few more trips, he tells me. And then I call up to him that I dropped the other pistol. It’s somewhere in the slush pocket. But he tells me one pistol will be enough. And then he’s gone again. And by the stove and the slipshod tent, Voley and I pool our warmth, waiting and watching. Hoping that our stalker has died and fallen to the bottom of the sea. After another half hour, when Russell’s confident that nothing else can be brought and thrown across the gap, he tells me it’s time. Time to jump. Even though he’s been