“We don’t need to fly high. Just well,” Pete said. “It will be a rocky ride, anyhow. Hope you’re okay with that.”
“I’ve never been in such a small plane,” Amanda said, climbing in. The plane smelled of old rubber and oil. The leather seats were cracked, and someone had spilled what looked like Goldfish cracker crumbs across the floor.
“I’ve got sick bags. I’ll take it easy, over the mountains.”
“Which ones?”
“All of them. Say, you okay? I heard there was a big fire last night in Eagle Cove.”
“Yeah. There was.” Amanda didn’t want to talk about it. He glancedat her, then turned the engine over. Amanda had brought the bear tooth in a bag from the market. Its presence reassured her.
“Wait till you see the ocean from the air,” he said. “It is something else.”
Amanda took a deep breath, steadied herself, and buckled in.
She looked out the window as the plane took off and was startled at how much she could feel the air outside. She was part of that air, now. She was part of the Pacific Ocean they flew out to and over, to cross Canada to the northernmost US state.
The sea ice began far before they reached Anger Bay, as they flew over the Chukchi Sea. Amanda was by now thoroughly chilled and wishing she had found a better pair of boots before she left. Hers had been loaned to her by Aspire, and while they fit, they were far from warm. Her borrowed jacket was also not made for real cold, and she shivered inside it.
“We’ll get you in better gear when we touch down!” Pete yelled at her over the sound of wind. Little bits of ice hit the windshield. Amanda looked down over the frozen sea. Itwassomething else—she could see the shape of waves. The ice was a hard, smooth blue where the wind had worn away the snow.
“Should have done that before!” he yelled.
They had been flying for four hours, and Amanda had been sick twice. It was good her stomach was empty, she thought. The plane swayed as they made their final descent, over the frozen sea toward a narrow landing strip dusted with snow. A single blinking light let them know where they were. Amanda peered out the frozen windows. All she could see was snow and more snow. Here and there were dark humps that might have been roofs.
“Hold on.” Pete took his time lowering the plane and crab-walking it up the landing strip. “We’re here. Wait a sec.”
They rolled into a completely deserted airport. The few other planes on the tarmac were covered with snow. Pete jumped out, testing his feet on the ice. He went around and got Amanda, opening her door and looking sympathetically into her green face.
“Welcome to Anger Bay.”
Pete punched a code into the airport door’s keypad and let Amanda inside. It was very cold in the building. Amanda took in a tiny snack bar, with a turned-off light above it, and a single waiting room. There was a metal detector pushed to one side.
“This place never gets used anymore,” Pete said. “Once the station was closed, that was it. No more visiting scientists. Now it’s just us locals, flying in and out. There aren’t any roads, of course. Too much snow.”
“How did people travel before planes?” Amanda asked.
He laughed. “By sled, of course.”
Amanda knew from her research that there was a small village near the research station. She wondered if that was where Pete was from, originally. She didn’t want to be intrusive and ask.
“We’ll spend the night in the village and head out in the morning. But first, I need to get you into something warm. You’ll freeze to death otherwise. Stupid of me to not even think of it before we left.”
In a dark airport closet, Pete dug through boxes of old flight gear and came up with an oil-stained orange snowsuit and a pair of men’s snow boots. Amanda put on the snowsuit, feeling like an odd, bulky bear. The boots were too big, but warm. She felt instant relief.
“Next stop, home.”
“How do we get there?”
“Snowmobile.”
He led her across a gritty, icy parking lot to a metal shed that banged with the wind. Their plane was already covered with a sheet of ice. Amanda wondered if they would be able to leave as planned, in two days. The sky was whirling with fresh snow.
Pete unlocked the shed and rolled out a snowmobile. After checking the tank, he made sure there was an extra can of fuel and safety gear in the back. Pete handed her a helmet and put on his own. Amanda took her seat, putting her arms around his waist, and they took off into the snow and wind.
Everywhere Amanda looked, from inside her drawn hood, was white. The snow blew in sharp gusts around her, and she tasted it. It tasted different from other snow. She reminded herself to take a video to send to the zoo, so they could share it with Molly. She wondered how the bear was reacting to the videos she had sent so far. She had been too shy to reach out to Sean and ask.
They rode for what seemed like a long time, but the hazy sun in the distance never changed. It hung like a yellow halo in a sea of silver white. Lights appeared in the distance. Amanda peered at them. They were coming from windows, in houses nearly buried in snow. There was no woodsmoke—they would have no wood to burn, she thought. What appeared to be large oilcans were buried in yards.
