4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

L aura

The wind howls like a wounded beast as the skies open and hard beads of cold water whip against my face. I studied the weather patterns. Storms this sudden and brutal aren’t supposed to happen this time of year. We thought we had a few more weeks before it would turn cold and wet.

“We need to get back to the compound. The gold can stay on the beach, we’ll transfer the bins to the Endurance tomorrow. They’re high enough from the shore and heavy enough that they won’t go anywhere. Put all the gear on the skid,” Garrison shouts over the wind and rain. “The iceman won’t mind.”

We all rush to load the diving gear around and on top of the man’s icy tomb.

Lightning cracks across the sky like a whip. It’s so loud, it pulls my attention from the iceman. I watch in horror as it strikes The Endurance with a terrifying crunch just as a huge rogue wave hits the boat anchored a hundred feet from shore.

The pungent odor of ozone assaults my nostrils as I see the boat, partially scorched and now crashed into the rocky shore. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know the boat is damaged beyond repair. It was our way off the island, and winter is coming on much faster than we could have predicted .

“The boat’s useless!” Garrison shouts over the roaring wind, his face twisted with a mix of frustration and grim determination. “We have to get off this island now! I’m calling a friend from the mainland who owns a copter. We’ve got the gold. It’s what we came for.”

I nod, my racing mind arrowing to the frozen man. To me, it’s our most precious find, but it’s too heavy to earn a place on a rescue helicopter, especially with the added weight of the gold. We can’t risk losing him, not after everything we’ve been through.

“We need to protect the ice!” I yell, my voice nearly lost in the gale. “Put it in the men’s tent. Pack it with dirt.” Between that and the cool temps, it will hopefully remain frozen until we can retrieve it.

Garrison hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking between the gold and the block of ice. Then, with a curt nod, he barks orders at the men. They spring into action. After offloading the gear from the skid, they follow me back to camp as I drive the UTV, pulling my precious frozen cargo. I’m surprised there isn’t even more grumbling as they make hurried trips outside to shovel dirt, then return to pack it around the block of ice, leaving only the top exposed.

As they work, I grab the computer pad to pull up the weather forecast, but quickly realize our Internet is down. Despite my attempts not to swear, this calls for a vehement, “Shit!” Our satellite internet system was in the ship’s high-tech array. The lightning strike must have fried it.

Garrison pulls out his satellite phone and conducts a hurried discussion as the wind whips the plastic walls and ceiling of our makeshift tent-like compound. I’d forgotten he had the sat phone. It’s the only one like it on the island.

“We can’t stay here any longer—too dangerous.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “I’d stake my life that this storm is going to get even worse. Bjorn will be here within the hour. Sorry about your antique man, Laura. We’ll come back to get him when the weather clears. ”

I grab his arm, my fingers digging into his sleeve. Even though I know Garrison’s answer, and doubt he’ll change his mind, I ask, “Are you sure we can’t bring the human remains?”

A slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes glinting with a calculating light. “The gold’s coming with us. I estimate it’s worth almost thirty million in spot price alone, and that’s not counting the historical value.” I’m not surprised he performed the same calculations I did. “We’ll come back to retrieve that thing as soon as the weather clears and we rent another boat.”

He seems to understand my urgency, which is a relief. Besides, I’m sure he’s right that the copter can’t carry that kind of extra weight.

The helicopter arrives in a whirlwind of noise and chaos, landing on the beach close to the bins of gold coins. The pilot gestures frantically for us to hurry. We’ve abandoned our gear in our tents, knowing the chopper has a strict weight limit.

I help the men attach the winch suspended from an overhead arm, like a crane, to the cases of gold that are then lifted and swung into the helicopter’s hold. When the helo is almost fully loaded, I run back to check on the body one more time, taking pictures with my phone.

I return to see the men already on board. When I grip the handhold to climb in, my exhausted body aching for the warmth and safety of the cabin, Garrison’s hand clamps down on my wrist, his grip cold and unyielding.

“I’m sorry, Laura,” he shouts over the roar of the rotors. “The pilot says we can’t afford one more pound. We’re already over the limit for this bird. I can’t leave any gold behind.”

Pressing my hand over my mouth, my eyes widen as a sick realization crashes over me. He’s cutting me out, leaving me behind to ensure he keeps every last coin. Strands of wet hair slap me in the face as I reach into the copter and grab wildly at his collar.

Had he planned something like this from the beginning, or was the lightning strike just a stroke of luck to ensure he gets all the gold? I hear the crew arguing with him, but he’s the one paying the pilot who is shouting, “I shouldn’t have agreed to come out in weather like this. If we don’t leave in seconds, we’re all going to be grounded!”

“You can’t do this!” I scream, my voice raw with betrayal and rage. “I’m owed nine percent! You promised!”

Garrison’s smile is a twisted mockery of comfort. “I’ll send another chopper, I swear. As soon as the weather permits. We’ll retrieve you, our gear, and the iceman. You’ll have plenty of food and fuel until we return.”

But I see the lie in his eyes, the cold calculation behind his words. He’s abandoning me, leaving me to the mercy of the storm and the frozen waste rather than tossing one bag of coins back onto shore.

The helicopter lifts off, the downdraft slamming into me like a physical blow. I stumble back, my eyes stinging with tears of fury and desperation. The storm surges around me, the wind tearing at my clothes, the sleet pounding against my skin as I watch the helicopter sway and dip in the wind with the heavy load on board, then disappear into the storm.

Sea spray arches fifteen feet into the air. Nearby trees are nearly bent in two and sleet slashes at my exposed skin as the temperature plummets. I’m alone, stranded on this forsaken tiny island with nothing but a frozen block of ice for company. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, a wave of hopelessness threatening to drag me under.

Even as despair claws at my heart, a flicker of determination sparks to life within me. I won’t let Garrison win, won’t let him take everything I’ve worked for.

I turn my face to the raging sky, the lightning illuminating my features in stark relief. I’ll survive this , I vow silently. I’ll find a way off this island, and I’ll make Garrison pay for his betrayal.

But first, I have to endure the storm, to weather the fury of the elements and the rocky isolation that stretches before me. Garrison isn’t as big of an ass as I think .

Perhaps it was a trick of the light that made me think he was abandoning me here forever. It’s only September. The weather is bound to let up and perhaps in a day or two the sound of helicopter rotors will wake me and I’ll feel as though this was just a bad dream.

With a deep breath, I square my shoulders and then head for the shelter of the camp, my mind already racing with plans and possibilities. I’ll survive this, claim my fair share of the money, and boast of the biggest archaeological discovery since the Tomb of Tutankhamun.