Polar Reaction by Claire Thompson Page A

did a great job on the stitches, by the way. Maybe you missed your calling.”
    “Wait until it heals and he sees the scar that’s left before deciding.” Brendan snorted and tossed his head. He glanced at his laptop screen, his eyes widening.
    “What? What is it?”
    “It’s working . I reinstalled the communication software to see if I could get the satellite connection running again and we’ve got Internet. We’re connected again. Oh, thank God .”
    Jamie leaped from the sofa and hurried over to see. He watched as Brendan scrolled through the main email account. He saw over a dozen emails, many marked urgent , from headquarters at the National Science Foundation.
    Tears of relief sprang to his eyes. Now that the worst of the storm seemed to have passed and communication was restored, surely it was only a matter of hours before they were rescued.
    Brendan turned to him, excitement raw in his voice. “Get my cell phone, will you? It’s next to my cot. See if we have service.”
    Jamie retrieved the phone and flipped it open. As if on cue, it began to ring. “Hello? This is Jamie Hunter at the West Antarctic Lab.” There was static on the line. “Can you hear me?”
    After a pause and some clicking sounds, a deep voice boomed over the line. “Hello. We can hear you. Thank goodness you’re back online. We’ve all been worried sick about you. How is everything?”
    He recognized the voice of Hank Shafer, one of the senior primary investigators on the project. Jamie was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. Brendan had jumped from his chair and stood close by, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Jamie half expected him to grab the phone. He turned away, too eager for a voice from the outside world to relinquish the phone just yet.
    “We’re okay. Tuck took a fall while repairing one of the generators but nothing life threatening. We managed to get outside this morning for the first time and reposition the satellite dish. It had been blown off its coordinates by the high winds. When can you get us out of here?”
    Jamie tried not to interpret the long pause that followed as ominous.His palms were sweating, making the small phone slippery in his grip. His heart tapped painfully against his sternum.
    “Is Brendan there, Jamie?”
    Wordlessly, Jamie held out the phone to Brendan, trying not to sink under the weight of foreboding settling over him. “Aaronson, here.” Brendan’s dark blond eyebrows formed a V, his mouth turning down at the corners.
    “Right. No. We hadn’t had a chance to check the weather forecasts yet. We only just managed to reconnect when you called.” Another pause while Brendan listened, his eyes on the floor, his free hand clenching into a fist.
    Fuck, Jamie thought. Whatever they’re saying, it’s not good. Anxiously he watched Brendan’s face, trying desperately not to leap to conclusions. Brendan wasn’t saying much, merely grunting and nodding. Finally he made his goodbyes and hung up.
    He turned to Jamie with a shrug. “There’s another storm right behind this one. They’re predicting it will hit by midafternoon. There’s no way they can risk sending a plane or helicopter into it. We’re going to have to sit tight another day or two. Maybe longer.”
    Jamie nodded, swallowing his disappointment like the bitter pill it was. Are we going to die here? He squelched the question before it even had a chance to fully form in his mind.
    Instead he focused on his frustration. Here he was twenty-five years old, but all he felt like doing at the moment was demanding with a stamp of his feet that Brendan make those bastards come get them. Now . He was dismayed to realize hot tears had sprung unwelcome into his eyes. He needed to get away from Brendan’s pitying look, but where the hell could he go?
    Remembering the blood in the generator shed, he spoke without looking at Brendan, not wanting him to see the tears of disappointment and fear. “I’m going to clean that mess out in the