'Cold Summer Comfort' by Mary Marland
Frozen raindrops pattered on panes of broken ice like tiny feet pattering on glass. Each drop reflected the pale light of the sinking summer sun and Eva’s heart sank. Words repeated themselves over and over again inside her brain, matching the rhythmic beat of the falling rain: ‘hurry, Greg, hurry . . . oh please, Greg, hurry!’ In the distance, an urgent whistle blew a final warning, but Eva wavered. Greg had promised to be back in time and Greg always kept his promises.
She looked at her watch. It had stopped. Everything stopped here. Nothing worked in this god-awful place. Eva shivered. “One more minute,”she whispered. “I will wait for him one more minute . . . .”
The light faded, suddenly and fast. Summers here were unlike summers anywhere else and Eva finally rose reluctantly to her feet. She strained her ears for the sound of Greg’s returning boots rattling against decades of undiscovered debris, but there was no such sound and she left the abandoned shelter with a heavy heart and ran in the direction of the whistle.
Seconds later – far too late, Gregory watched the plane leave. They would never return. Their research was over and he had missed the plane home. He was alone in the comfortless, dark Arctic summer. Strangely calm he ate a last sandwich and drank a last coffee – and he listened as frozen raindrops pattered on panes of broken ice like tiny feet pattering on glass.