“Something beeped.” The tension in his face made her add, “Like a phone. Maybe a phone.”
Without a second’s hesitation, he was up and out of their bed, racing to the communication console in the corner, with no care for his feet. She followed him, slower, grabbing shoes, warmer tops, and a blanket to put over his shoulders.
Apparently fully awake, he fiddled with buttons on what she’d have bet might have been the oldest communication system in the world. Was it a shortwave radio or something? No idea. It was hard to look away from his face and the sweet cowlick that had sprung up from the top of his head. She wanted to reach out—not to smooth it into submission, but just to feel the soft slide of it.
He let out an irritated breath and turned. “Where’d it come from?”
“What?” She blinked blearily at him before understanding kicked in. “Oh. Over here, definitely. I’m not sure whe—”
When it came again, he turned and snatched up his sat phone, which, miraculously, lit up when he hit a button. “Goddammit!No signal.”
“Cloud cover, maybe. Is it even the right time of day?”
“No idea.” He squinted at the screen. It was an almost impossible-to-read jumble of letters and numbers. “Got some charge, at least.” He shook it and caught her side-eye. “What? Scientific method.”
“Right.” She stood and headed toward the pantry shelves, favoring her knee. “Coffee?”
He nodded and went back to fiddling with the phone while she heated water, doing her best to ignore the tightness in her abdomen.
Why did she feel like throwing up? It took a few seconds for the realization to happen.
Real life. The outside world.
They were saved!
Too soon.The guilty little thought threaded through her brain like a serpent, making her wish for all the wrong things.
She’d imagined them stuck here for a while, making love, eating crappy food, talking. Getting to know each other, at least until their fuel ran out. Then they could set off to join other people.
A glance showed him pushing buttons and muttering silently to himself. The sweetness of that cowlick twisted her insides in a way that wasn’t sweet anymore. It hurt.
Pathetic. Stop it.
Right. So they’d leave here, get to safety—preferably away from this continent, although he might not agree—and then it would all be over. An end in sight. Okay, good. This would make it easier.
“Got it!” He dialed, put the phone to his ear, and waited. “Shit,” he muttered, then cleared his throat and spoke, loudly, pushing the sound out through tight-sounding vocal cords. “Eric. Need your help. Burke-Ruhe was attacked. I think they’re linked to the Chronos Corporation. The company I told you funded some of my research. We’re headed to Volkov Station. You’ve got to find out what they’re doing.” He pulled the phone away, glanced at it, and shoved it back to his ear. “Can you hear me? Shit. Volkov. Call Volkov Station. Tell them we’re less than one hundred fifty miles out, at the old Norwegian Field Research site. The Russians know it. We could use help. And hey, could you figure out what Chronos Corp wants with my fucking virus?” He yelled for a second but went quiet as he wrapped up the call. “Love you, Bro, whatever happens. Love you.”
With a hard expelled breath, he met her eyes, managing to look both hopeless and feverish with energy. “Can’t stay here forever.”
The words probably weren’t meant as an accusation, but they felt like one nonetheless. Like she wanted to stay here—which wasn’t a lie—and he was blaming her, somehow, for enjoying it.
It all hit pretty close to home.
“Can you call—”
He lifted the phone, pushed a couple buttons, checked the charger, and dropped it again. “Dead.”
“Battery?”
“Probably. Didn’t always keep it warm while we were out there.”
“You were otherwise occupied.”
“Yeah.” His smile was tight. “Lucky I could call out at all.”
“Definitely.”
“Listen, Angel.”
