Polar Meltdown

by J. Burchett

  Soon they could see a bank of white dense vapour swirling on the surface of the sea in front of them. There didn’t seem to be any way around.

  “Thank goodness we’ve got our BUGs to guide us,” said Zoe. “We’d end up going round in circles otherwise.”

  They paddled into the thick fog. It was impossible to see much further than the end of the kayak.

  “Stay close to me,” called Ben urgently.

  Following the northwards course on their BUGs, they made their way blindly through the thick, freezing air. The paddling movement was keeping them warm, but they could feel droplets of ice clinging to their hoods and balaclavas. The only noise was the splash of their oars and the occasional clunking sound as ice blocks clashed together.

  “I’ll be glad to reach the floe,” said Zoe. She was paddling as close as she could to Ben’s side to keep him in sight.

  “Me too,” answered Ben. “This is creepy.”

  Something dark loomed up in the fog. The children slowed their kayaks.

  “What’s that?” Zoe whimpered. “It looks like a row of grey people in hoods…and they’re crouched down. I don’t like it.”

  Now they could hear sounds as if someone was tapping on wood. Zoe back-paddled as fast as she could.

  “Surely it can’t be humans,” said Ben, trying to sound braver than he felt.

  He tapped a key on his BUG to identify the sound. When the result flashed up on the screen he burst out laughing with relief.

  “Come back,” he called to his sister. “It’s just a pod of walruses. It was their shapes you could see – they’re on the ice floe.”

  The fog swirled and cleared a little, and in the small shaft of sunlight they could see the walruses lying on the edge of the ice. Their pinky-grey bodies were covered in short hair and their snouts bristled with stiff whiskers. Each one had a pair of gleaming tusks, pointing downwards and looking very sharp.

  With a shamefaced grin, Zoe brought her kayak alongside his again. “Well, they looked scary back there,” she insisted.

  “We don’t want to land amongst them,” said Ben. “I know they don’t usually attack humans, but they’re huge.”

  “And those tusks look vicious,” agreed Zoe. “I vote we give them a wide berth.”

  One of the walruses was watching them with its little eyes, turning its head to follow their movements. It raised its snout to the air, whiskers twitching. Suddenly it gave a harsh, bellowing cry. The other animals took it up and they began to shuffle towards the sea.

  “They’ve caught our scent and they’re scared,” said Ben, plunging his paddle into the water. “We should have used the scent dispersers on our BUGs, but it’s too late now. Get away as fast as you can. Walruses always take to the sea when they’re frightened.”

  Just as he spoke, the walruses plunged into the icy ocean with tremendous splashes. Waves of water surged towards the kayaks. Ben and Zoe rowed madly back into the fog, but more animals were diving into the sea. Shiny heads were popping up all over the place, giving terrified cries as they swam away.

  Zoe let out a yelp of fright as the wash of water tipped her sideways. Ben twisted in his seat to try and spot his sister through the wall of fog. But Zoe was nowhere to be seen.

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  “Zoe!” Ben’s voice sounded muffled in the fog. “Zoe, where are you?”

  He listened. For a moment all he could hear was the crunch and grind of floating ice bumping into the kayak. His heart raced. He knew that if Zoe had capsized she couldn’t survive long in the freezing Arctic water.

  He began to paddle around, searching the choppy waves. Nothing. Hands shaking with fear, he steered the kayak through the ice, looking to right and left. He called again. This time he could hear the rising panic in his own voice. Vital minutes were passing.

  Then at last he heard a call, so faint at first that he thought he was imagining what he wanted to hear. No, there it was again. He propelled the kayak quickly towards the sound through the swirling fog.

  “Ben!” Now he could see the outline of a figure on the edge of the ice floe. It was waving frantically.

  He swiftly brought his kayak up to the bank of ice. Zoe was kneeling, her hand stretched towards him to help him climb out.

  “I thought you’d capsized!” panted Ben, as he pulled his lightweight craft out of the water and put it next to his sister’s.

  “I nearly did!” Zoe replied. “I was so scared. The walruses made such rough waves! Remember that capsize session we did with Erika in the canoes?”

  Ben nodded. “You were really good at it.”

  “Just as well,” said Zoe. “Every time I felt myself keeling over I just about managed to slap the water with the paddle and twist myself up. As soon as the walruses had gone I got myself on to the ice. I never want to do that again.”

  Ben could hear a tremble in her voice. “Well, we’re both OK,” he said, putting his arm round her shoulders. “But we must be more careful.”

  “Too right,” said Zoe, vehemently. “Let’s get away from here.”

  “Mustn’t forget to fit our trackers to the kayaks first,” said Ben. “Then we’ll be able to locate them wherever we are.”

  He detached a small gadget from his BUG and clipped it firmly on to the kayak. Zoe did the same with hers. They then turned them upside down and covered them with snow.

  “We don’t want anyone passing to see empty kayaks and try to rescue us,” said Zoe.

  Ben checked the screen of his BUG. An orange light pulsed. “Tracker’s working.”

  He tapped some more keys. “I’ve put in the coordinates I remembered from the map Lukie showed us,” he told Zoe. He studied the map on his screen and pointed across the snow. “It’s this way. Northward ho!”

  “And now – time for the RATs,” declared Zoe. The two children pulled their slim snowboards out of the side pockets of their backpacks and put them down on the snow.

  They looked out towards their destination. At their feet the ice floe was covered in a smooth, flat layer of snow, but further on, the ice had been sculpted into strange shapes by the wind. Some formations made gentle mounds; others looked like sheer jagged rocks, their ledges thick with overhanging snow.

  The children pressed their heels on to the starting buttons and the RATs’ motors whizzed into life. Off they went, weaving two parallel tracks in the untrodden snow. Ben surged ahead.

  “Watch this!” he yelled back to his sister. He steered the RAT towards a hump in the ground and took off, balancing expertly in the air with outstretched arms.

  “Olympic jump!” he boasted, as he landed several metres further on.

  A look of grim determination on her face, Zoe copied him. She glanced back at the two landing marks in the snow and grinned. Her jump was longer.

  “You only got the silver medal,” she called. “I got the gold!”

  She put on a burst of speed and zoomed after her brother. Ben slowed a little, then, checking she was close behind, stamped down with his heel on the back of his RAT. The end dug into the snow and a powdery white spray flew up behind it – all over Zoe.

  Ben burst out laughing and zoomed away, Zoe on his tail. But suddenly he brought his RAT to a halt. Zoe just managed to avoid colliding with him.

  “A joke’s a joke,” she said crossly, “but I nearly ran into you then.”

  “Sorry,” said Ben. “But check out that sky ahead.”

  Zoe stared at the horizon. Grey clouds were swirling round in the distance. They were getting closer and the wind was whipping the snow around their feet.

  “That’s bad,” Zoe said simply. “Looks like a snowstorm. Remember the old man at the centre said there was one coming. That’s going to delay us getting to the cubs.”

  The low sun was now completely blotted out by the dark, ominous clouds. Flakes of snow were falling fast. They were being driven straight into their faces by the wind. Ben and Zoe couldn’t keep their balance on the RATs and had to walk
instead.

  “I can’t see a thing,” yelled Zoe, as they trudged along. “And it’s getting much colder. I’m not sure how much further I can go.”

  “This is hopeless,” said Ben. “Let’s get the tent up. We’d be better sitting out the storm than getting lost – or worse.”

  He reached into his backpack and pulled out the compactly folded tent. Together they tried to open it up, but the buffeting wind kept pulling at it, threatening to pull it from their grasp. The thin material was slipping through their gloved hands like a wet fish.

  “Don’t let go!” yelled Ben.

  But it was too late. There was a vicious blast of wind and the tent was torn out of their hands. It whipped away until it was a tiny dot on the horizon.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  “Now what are we going to do?” asked Ben desperately. “We’ll never survive out here in a snowstorm.”

  “We have to take shelter,” said Zoe. “Remember what Amaguq said about snow holes? We need to make one – now!”

  “The ground looks raised over there.” Ben pointed into the distance. “There might be enough snow to dig into.”

  “It’s hard to see anything!” shouted Zoe, struggling to walk against the rising strength of the wind, which howled around them and tugged at their clothes.

  At last they reached the banked-up snow and dropped to their knees, the wind blasting into their faces.

  “Perfect!” yelled Ben. “It’s facing away from the wind!”

  “I wish we were!” Zoe yelled back.

  They clawed blindly at the snow.

  “It’s falling too fast to clear!” called Ben.

  “Use your RAT as a spade!” The children were soon scooping great shovelfuls of snow away with the front end of the boards.

  At last they’d scooped out a space just big enough to crawl into. They took off their goggles and lay huddled together in their sleeping bags, listening to the wind roaring outside. Zoe pulled a torch out of her backpack. She shone its beam at the entrance to their shelter. It lit the snowflakes that were driving past the entrance. The storm was at its height.

  “It’s unbelievable,” said Ben. “We’ve seen snowstorms like this on television, but I never realised how bad it would be to land up in the middle of one.”

  “It’s going to delay our search,” said Zoe. “Those poor cubs.”

  “It could go on for hours.” Ben sighed. “We’ll have to make the best of it. How about some provisions? I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” laughed Zoe, wriggling round to put her hand into her brother’s backpack. “If you get your elbow out of my stomach, I might be able to reach the food.”

  “Not easy!” Ben shifted painfully. “Now I’m sitting on the RAT’s motor.”

  The children soon had their high-energy fruit bars unwrapped. They sat and munched in silence. Outside it was as dark as night now, and the snow was piling up at the hole’s entrance. Strange noises rose up above the whine of the wind.

  “That’s the ice floe creaking,” said Zoe. “It moves all the time and this storm’s making it worse.” She scooped some snow into her glove and sucked at it. “No shortage of drink here.”

  Ben yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to get a bit of sleep,” he told Zoe. “Jet lag. Wake me up when the storm’s over.”

  Zoe nodded. Ben always suffered more than she did from the time changes when they went on their missions. She knew she wouldn’t sleep anyway. Her mind was too busy picturing the shivering bear cubs alone in their den. She wondered how they’d ever get to them in time. Any tracks the mother polar bear or fisherman had left would be covered in fresh snow. So would the den…

  Zoe’s breathing was quickening and her thoughts were suddenly tumbling about.

  She had a weird feeling of confusion. She turned to Ben and was horrified to see that his lips were blue – and yet when she touched his skin it was warm. What was happening?

  She shook her brother hard. She was relieved to see he was breathing, but he wouldn’t stir. Her muddled brain tried to work out what was going on. She had to get a grip on herself, but she felt so light-headed! She took a handful of snow and rubbed it in her face to wake herself up.

  She flashed the torch around. Where was the entrance to their shelter? It had vanished. Was she having a nightmare? No, that was silly, she was awake.

  And now the tiny bit of Zoe’s brain that was still working had the answer. The storm had sealed them in. They were trapped in a tomb of snow. If the hole had gone, then no air was getting in. They were being starved of oxygen. That explained why she felt so strange. And that was why Ben wouldn’t wake up.

  Zoe knew that if she didn’t do something straight away they were going to die! But all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep.

  “Stay awake!” she muttered to herself, pinching her cheeks hard, hoping the pain would keep her focused.

  She started to scrape at the covered entrance, but the snow was thick and she could feel her strength draining away. She was gasping now from lack of air as she clawed desperately for a way out.

  Then, just when she thought she couldn’t dig any more, the snow fell away and her gloved hand broke through the wall. With the last of her strength, Zoe heaved herself up to the small gap and took great welcome gulps of freezing air. She felt her brain slowly come back to life. She twisted round to Ben.

  He was pale and still. Zoe’s heart almost stopped. Was she too late?

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  “Wake up, Ben!” Zoe tugged at her brother’s jacket and managed to haul him towards the small blast of fresh, freezing air. His head lolled forwards and he didn’t stir.

  “Ben!” sobbed Zoe in desperation. She rubbed hard on his back. Then she shook him. But nothing was working.

  Desperately she took a handful of snow and shoved it into his face.

  Ben gave a faint groan and his eyelids fluttered. “Gerroff!” he mumbled.

  Zoe didn’t think she’d ever been happier! She got another handful of snow.

  “Cold!” muttered Ben, trying to turn his head away.

  “Breathe deeply,” insisted Zoe, slapping his cheeks. “You lost consciousness.”

  Gradually, Ben came round. To Zoe’s relief his skin began to look pinker, although his eyes were still heavy and he slumped back against the wall of the snow hole. She thrust an energy bar into his hand and watched him slowly chew it.

  “What happened?” Ben said groggily.

  “Our entrance got covered over with snow and we’d forgotten to make an air hole,” answered Zoe. “Amaguq said it was really important.”

  “I bet polar bears remember to do that when they build a den.” Ben grinned weakly.

  “We must start searching for the cubs’ den as soon as you feel ready,” said Zoe. “I can’t hear the wind anymore.”

  Ben dug at the entrance until it was wide enough for him to see through. “It’s dark out there!” he said. “We must have been here hours.”

  Zoe checked her BUG. “It’s eight in the evening.”

  “It’s stopped snowing,” Ben reported. “Let’s go.”

  They pulled their goggles back on, broke out of their shelter and stood in the dark landscape. The snow clouds had gone as quickly as they’d come. A pale moon shone, making the sky an inky blue. The children switched on small flashlights that were stitched into the front of their balaclavas.

  “Visibility OK,” grinned Ben. A light flashed on his BUG screen. “We’re close to where the attack happened,” he said. “The den shouldn’t be too far away.” He pressed a key and an arrow flashed on the screen. “Follow me.”

  The children jumped on to their RATs and sped off across the new, powdery snow, stopping every now and then to check the direction.

  “It looks like the ground’s moving up ahead,” said Zoe at last, slowing down her RAT.

  Ben peered forwards. “That’s the sea,” he exclaimed. “It’s the floating
ice that you can see moving. Good old BUG, it hasn’t let us down. We’re on the spur.”

  “It’s a lot wider than I expected,” said Zoe looking around. “I can’t see the water on the other side.”

  They jumped off their boards, folded them and put them back in their backpacks. Ben tapped some keys. “I’ve set it to look for the thickest snow banks,” he said. “That’s sure to be where the den is.”

  “Time for thermal imaging.” Zoe pressed the logo at the side of her snow goggles. At once the bottom half of the lenses became cloudy. As she looked at Ben, she could see his top half clearly but his legs showed up as a purple, yellow and orange glow. “With luck we’ll pick up the cubs’ body heat.”

  If they’re still alive, she thought to herself.

  “There’s a long ridge of snow twenty metres along the spur from here,” said Ben, clicking his goggles into thermal mode as well. “Let’s start our search there.”

  Reaching the ridge, they moved slowly along, staring intently through the bottom half of their goggles, but there was no sign of the glowing shape of a warm, living body.

  “They’re not here,” said Ben as they reached the end. He tapped at one key and then another on his BUG. “That’s strange. I can’t seem to update this map. The screen seems to have stuck.”

  “Mine’s stuck too,” said Zoe in surprise.

  “Do you think it’s too cold for them?” She pressed the hot key that would put them in touch with Wild Headquarters. “I’ll ask Uncle Stephen.” She gave the BUG a shake. “No, that’s not working either. This is scary, Ben. How will we find our kayaks again or contact HQ?”

  “It’s strange,” said Ben. “Surely Uncle Stephen would have adapted our BUGs for these conditions. We’ll just have to carry on our search the hard way and worry about the rest later.” He scanned the snowy ground as far as his light shone for likely den sites.

  “The blizzard hasn’t helped things,” said Zoe. “The snow’s covered any tracks.”