Down south, as south as you can go. Where the nights are long, and the land is covered in snow. There are days that feel like minutes and nights that feel like months. The blizzards surround you; they blind you from all sides. The more you can't see, the faster you get lost. Don't go outside, for the howling wind and merciless storm will swallow you. Go outside, and you will be lost forever. Those people who are lost, can't come back. They never come back, only the lost return.
-
The sound of a ship's horn echoed through the air as fog crept through the murky, icy waters of Antarctica. A frosty, stale air lingered as the large ship eased through the sections of sharp glaciers that floated along the surface of the sea. The people along the ship were very quiet, reserved, neither feeling the need to cozy up to one and another. The distance between each person was as brisk as the air.
The crew were quietly shuffling from duty to duty, doing the basic routine checks, going about their daily business. The passengers on the ship were people of all different backgrounds and ages, they were survivalists who were called out to the bottom of the world for a job.
A black man, at the moment, was sitting at the front of the ship watching the whispering waves brush against the sides. It was only him there, he sat on a bench as the fog engulfed the bow. He clicked a pen on a piece of paper, tapping it ever so gently, making small ink splotches. He glanced up at the sky to see the shadow of a skua fly past, realizing that they were closer to land then he previously thought.
Ryan Harty and about thirty other survivalists immediately took ships down to Antarctica when they were called upon for the reward from the famous Aerospace billionaire Virgil Hailey, who reported to the media that last summer his wife had gone missing in the snow. The billionaire spent the last few months accumulating the best survivalists over the world to find his missing wife, or what would be left of her. The report noted that they tried searching for her the first month she had gone missing with a small team that was at the base, but it was to no avail. So, Mr. Hailey sailed back to the States to properly inform the authorities and her side of the family of the dilemma that had unfolded and stated that he would spend as much manpower as he could to find her.
Ryan knew by now that whatever was left of her was probably buried under tens of feet of snow, but he didn't mind amusing a widowed billionaire for his services. He was sure they wouldn't be able to find anything, but if they did, there would be a five hundred million dollar reward for anyone who even found a trace of her.
He wasn't too intimidated by having to venture off into Antarctica either, for he had experienced that cold, merciless climate before.
But there was this nagging feeling he had ever since the boat had left the bay of Argentina. As he sat by himself, he was able to contemplate the circumstances at hand. He questioned on what the real details were of why his wife disappeared in the snow in the first place, and he even entertained the thought that this was just an old rich man's delusions or excuses after he may have done away with her. But then if he was really going with that theory, why bring it up to the media at all that she had gone missing? It's almost a given that billionaires could get away with murder if that was the case. And why would they come all the way down to Antarctica to go on vacation in the first place?
The ship's horn blew again, and he could see from where he was sitting on the bow that a blurry formation was appearing closer to them. He could see the silhouettes of buildings as they came upon the port. The ship's horn blew again to notion the passengers that they were near land and the people slowly started peering out one by one from the haul's doors to see.
Another man came from under the deck to reach the bow of the boat and mumbled to himself, "Ice biting as ever."
Ryan ignored him as each watched the ship slowly ease into port, with the crew members jumping out to pull the ramp out and drop the anchor. The passengers gathered their supplies with some help of the crew members and started out onto the ramp. Ryan was the first of the ship with his things in hand, and he glanced up to see more skuas who perched at a nest nearby, squawking at them. He pulled his things off to the port and he stopped in his tracks to see a few people standing in place, waiting for the passengers to exit.
The man in the center was a white man whose face was covered in scruff, eyes hard, but still had a kind enough smile on his face as the survivalists approached him. He wore a frayed captain's hat and thick navy blue jacket. There were two women next to him, one was also a white lady who had short auburn hair and a rather annoyed expression to her face. She wore a light neon green jacket with reflective armbands. The second woman was a small black woman with a shaven head and a cold stare. She wore a reflective yellow jacket that could be seen a mile away.
The white woman in the light green jacket spoke up first and said, "Welcome to Antarctica," she stepped forward and continued, "I'm Dalia Pinsky, Mr. Hailey's secretary. The other Miss here is Sarah Kane, the operator of this base, and this big guy over here is Sargent Abraham." She did a quick skimming over the survivalists' faces and stated, "Alright with a quick headcount it seems we have about thirteen people from that quaint little cruise. There are six other people we are waiting for; the rest are at the base. Mr. Hailey hasn't arrived yet, but he'll be here in a day or so, considering the amount of work he had to finish before coming here."
Inside the base was just slightly warmer than the outside, even with heater loudly blaring. The ceilings were low, and the walls were a faded maroon that was almost grey. There were pipes and ventilation cluttering the ceiling and skinny doors for every room. Everyone was getting accommodated; people were beginning to make small talk as they enjoyed the down time before the trek into the frozen landscape.
Ryan passed many people on the way to what would be his assigned room that he'd be sharing with god knows who, carrying his equipment along with him. He passed a lounge area with a pool table and saw one guy at the center of attention of a group as he boasted about something he accomplished. Ryan didn't pay too much attention, just a quick glance as he made it to the room.
The room itself was rather small and tight, having a bunk bed inside with a square window looking over some reflective lights going to a section of the docks. He turned to the bunk bed to see a short Hispanic man reading an old readers digest that came from a pile of magazines underneath a lamp's stand. The man glanced up to him and Ryan could see he was a pudgy fellow with a full head of hair and a short stubbly beard. He blinked at Ryan then grew a kind smile as he rose up to shake his hand.
"Hello, I'm Roberto Cameron , you're bunk buddy," the man greeted with.
"Ryan Harty," he greeted back, taking the man's hand in a firm shake. "Cramped room, isn't it?"
"Eh, well it's no five stars," Roberto noted. "Did you want the top bunk? I like being closer to the ground myself."
"Sure, I'll take it," Ryan accepted, as he placed some of his things to the corner of the room and threw a duffle bag onto where he'd be sleeping.
"Looks like it's going to be clear for a few days," Roberto stated. "A favorable break huh?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Ryan responded.
"Hey Ryan," Roberto sat back down with his magazine and asked, "Do you know what team you're on?"
"Team 1, I think," he answered.
"Oh, me too," Roberto snickered. "I guess they're pairing us up with our respective team members."
"Seems that way," Ryan pulled himself up onto the top bunk as he started rifling through his duffle bag.
"I hope the other members are nice," he wished. "I'm the sled dog trainer by the way."
"Oh?"
"What are you?"
"Navigator," Ryan replied, then added, "That counts as supply manager too."
"I see," then Roberto quipped with a chuckle on his tongue, "Also a man with few words I see."
Ryan blinked, but then smirked seeing the short man giggle at his own joke. He supposed the people on this trip wouldn't be too hard to wrangle.
The next morning was quiet and calm, people were murmuring as they talked to one and another about the future expedition. There were people at the small bar with a morning's coffee, a few gentlemen playing cards at a short table, and others moving about. Ryan decided to venture to the bar where a plump black woman stood, cleaning a pint from last night. He sat down and glanced at his other surroundings.
"You didn't come here to drink, did you?" the woman asked as she rubbed the pint with her dampened cloth, "Because it's too early in the morning for that."
"No, no, I just wanted some place to sit down," Ryan reassured her.
"The couch is more comfortable than a swivel," she noted.
"I'll keep that in mind," Ryan sighed.
"Want some water then?"
"I could have one, yes, please."
She poured him water from the tap, sliding it his way while saying, "What's your name, big guy?"
"Ryan Harty," he answered as he brushed his fingers on the cold wet glass. "Yours?"
"Debra Langer," she answered back. "Call me Debbi or Debs if you like."
"Hello Debbi," Ryan pulled his hand out for a shake which she much obliged.
"Hello Ryan," she smiled back.
Debbi continued to dry glasses when Ryan called, "Hey Debbi?"
"Hm?"
"Are you one of the people stationed here at this outpost?"
"Uh-huh, part of the communications department when I'm not cleaning beer glasses."
"Why are you cleaning beer glasses?"
"Someone's gotta do it. Just one of those chores."
"Hm," Ryan thought to himself as he slowly took a drink. He decided to change the subject, "Debbi?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you here last year?"
"When that billionaire lost his wife?" Debbi clarified which Ryan nodded to. "Yeah I was. Met her too, she seemed a bit unhinged at first, probably shouldn't have come to such a dangerous continent if you aren't all up there."
"Were you there when he came back without her?"
"Yeah," Debbi stated. "He was completely out of sorts, muttering, crying, the works. It took him awhile to calm down."
"Wait, wasn't her disappearance at a different base more inland?" Ryan questioned. "You're making it sound like he drove all the way here because-"
"Because nobody was at the base besides the two of them?" Debbi finished for him. "Yeah, well apparently that base was going to be their little honeymoon spot. They wanted it private I heard. Why have your honeymoon down here is beyond me though."
"Was there really no one else with them?" Ryan asked.
"Well, there was," Debbi recalled. "Some old equipment fell on the nurse there and since she couldn't operate on herself, the Sargent and bodyguard decided it was best to drive her back here. And the janitor came back a couple of days beforehand because he had influenza and was sent back to the States."
"So, the couple was left behind."
"Yeah, left alone for a few hours, but then the husband came here, freaking out how his wife just up and walked into the snow. Completely disappeared."
"You think he did something to her?"
Debbi didn't answer right away, she stood there thinking to herself until she responded, "No, because this isn't the first time someone's disappeared down here in the snow without a trace. You can expect people to disappear more often than not in the snow. And it's easy for people to get lost when a blizzard hits. I've heard of stories of people outside their base, and they are so blinded by the snow that they get lost. Their dead body can be found to tens to sometimes even more strangely hundreds of miles away. Most of the time they aren't found at all though."
"There was nothing to indicate that he may have offed her?"
"No, and I was with the team who went back to that base to find out," Debbi explained. "Her jacket was still on the hook, but she definitely took her boots out. It was a nasty blizzard that day, so it was hard to get there and kind of unbelievable that a billionaire could make it to our base all by himself. I wonder what miracle could have guided him."
"So, nothing questionable?"
"Nothing out of order," Debbi stated.
Ryan also took note that Mr. Hailey could have just paid everyone off, so they won't say anything. If it was true that there really was nothing off about this then that means her body is really out there, buried somewhere under tens of feet of snow.
"Oh, you know what?" Debbi hummed, catching Ryan's attention. "There was this old camera outside where she walked out. The camera recorded her leaving the building, all by herself, but it only caught that much."
"What happened to the recording?" Ryan questioned.
"Fell in the ocean."
"Fell in the ocean?" Ryan repeated in amazement.
"Yeah, Mrs. Kane watched the person holding it slip off the dock," Debbi explained. "Managed to rescue him, but that tape is long gone by now."
A silence fell between the two as she continued drying the dishes.
"Which team are you going to be part of?" Debbi asked, pulling Ryan out of his train of thought.
"I'm going to be on the team with Mr. Hailey," Ryan told her.
"Hm, then you can make a good impression by cozying up to that guy," Debbi noted. "Wouldn't hurt to be friends with a billionaire."
"Please, the money's enough, I'm not even in it for the big reward," Ryan sighed. "There's no reasons to become best buddies. Besides, doesn't that sound a little manipulative? A little shifty?"
"Honey," Debbi chuckled as she placed a polished glass down, her cloth on her hip. "He's a billionaire, those people are as fake as can be and so are all of their friends. He's used to the plastic life. Don't worry about that."
Ryan shrugged, not really interested at the topic at hand when he noticed Roberto coming into the room. The little man spotted Ryan at the counter and Ryan waved over for him to join them. Roberto came over and sat on a stool, he had a simple smile on his face.
"Morning Ryan," Roberto greeted first.
"Morning Roberto," Ryan smiled. "You taking morning shots?"
"Oh no," Roberto laughed. "I've sworn off alcohol."
"Really?" Ryan's eyebrow lifted in interest. "Why's that?"
"No reason really," Roberto brushed off, then changing the subject, "So is Mr. Hailey in yet?"
"Not that I heard," Debbi answered. "Probably won't be here until the afternoon, maybe night."
"So, we have to wait another day for this guy?" Roberto sighed.
"Why are you complaining?" Ryan snickered. "We get paid even if he does waste our time. I'll sit around in this base until our contract's time run out if I could."
"It would be an easy job," Roberto joked. "Maybe he'll even bring some servants down to take care of us."
"Yeah, stuffy butlers, and ditzy maids is what this icy expedition needs," Ryan retorted.
The three of them chatted for a while, Debbi even came to their side of the bar to converse. It was a delightful morning until Ryan got a call.
"Ah, hang on I got to take this," he stood up and left the room to answer it.
On the other line was a little girls voice, "Daddy, you forgot to call me."
"Sorry sweetie," Ryan smiled. "Daddy was making friends, he got distracted."
"He is?"
"Yeah, I am."
"Oh," Ryan waited for a moment until she asked, "Daddy, guess what?"
"What?"
"I won my arts and crafts show!" she squealed. "I got a big trophy and mommy was there, and the principal said my art was the best he'd ever seen!"
"That's great sweetie," Ryan chuckled. "Is the trophy made of gold?"
"Mhm, though I wanted one with diamonds on it, but gold is good too I guess," she giggled on the other line.
"Hey Abbie?"
"Yeah?"
"How's mommy doing?" Ryan asked his daughter. "Is she still mad about our last talk?"
"Um, I think so," Abbie answered. "She said that you are a big bucket of worms sometimes."
"A big bucket of worms huh?" Ryan grimaced at the imagery. "She always had a way with words, doesn't she?"
"Hey, daddy?" Abbie wondered, her voiced laced with a bit of bitter sadness. "When are you coming home?"
"Well, I've got this job to do Abbie-"
"No, after that!" Abbie clarified.
"Oh, well… I don't think I'll be coming back inside the house Abbie," he told her, "But with this money from this job I should get my own house, better than my apartment that I have now, and you can visit me on the weekends or longer."
"Why does Mommy not want to be with you anymore?" Abbie whined. "It's like she hates you or something."
"Honey, I thought we talked about this?" Ryan sighed. "Mommy and I… well we aren't probably going to be together anymore."
"No!" Abbie snapped on the other line. "I want you two to be together forever!"
"Abbie I-"
"Abbie?" a familiar voice was on the other end of the line now, it was Rachel. She took the phone from Abbie, even though she was whining for it back,"Hello, who is this?"
"It's me, Rachel," Ryan answered regretfully into the receiver.
"Oh, did Abbie call you?"
"Yeah, she did."
"Hmph, how's it down there in the freezing cold?" Rachel passively sneered.
"It's fine, making friends left and right."
"That doesn't sound like you," Rachel huffed.
"Can we not do this right now Rachel?" Ryan pleaded. "Can I just talk to my daughter, please?"
Rachel responded, "How long are you going to be down there?"
"Huh, I don't know a few months at the most," Ryan stated.
"A few months…" Rachel then sighed, handing the phone to Abbie who answered.
"She looked kind of sad, Daddy," Abbie whispered once she knew her mother was far enough away.
"Sad, huh?" Ryan gently hit his head on the wall behind him. "That's not new." He talked to his daughter for a couple more hours. He didn't tend to get reception further inland, so he'd have to make do with the time they had now. The thought that he wouldn't see his baby girl for so long tortured his heart, but he'd have to think positively if he wanted to get the job done and be able to provide for her. So, it isn't just Rachel who is providing for their daughter.
He left for his room after the call and pulled that journal out again. He busied himself in there until it was apparently time that they'd be serving lunch. He left with his journal in toe and as he crossed an intersection of the hall, he collided into somebody. They both tumbled onto the floor and Ryan felt that person's chin caved into her shoulder. They both sat there all ruffled when Ryan realized the journal fell out of his grasp in front of that person.
He saw that they were covered in winter gear, probably someone who just came from outside considering the patches of snow on his hat and jacket. But he also had a scarf and goggles on that was wrapped around his face.
"Hey, watch where you're going," Ryan snipped at this stumbling buffoon.
"Uh, sorry," the other guy apologized as he pulled himself up.
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows at the submissiveness. He raised himself up and he walked over to that person. He didn't pay him any mind as he picked up his journal. The person noticed it and was the first to see that it got damp from the muddy wet floor that came from their boots.
"Oh," he muttered rather nervously now. "Your journal."
"Hm, oh," Ryan sighed at the sight of the dampened pages. "Whatever, it'll dry."
"That's good," mumbled the other guy who started to get fidgety then exclaimed, "Uh, I gotta go."
"Hey, wait minute," Ryan called, stopping the guy in his tracks. "It's noon soon, so has Mr. Hailey arrived yet or what?"
"Um…"
"See, I'm part of his team and need to debrief him about the length of the trip," Ryan explained. "I don't think he'll know about the bulk of rations we're going to need… anyways has anyone seen the guy yet?"
"Well…" the man seemed to have a nervous fret in his movements. "You can tell me about it later." Ryan must have had a confused expression on because the man quickly pulled off his goggles and down his scarf, away from his mouth, saying, "I'm Mr. Hailey, but I'm in a hurry, so excuse me."
He left pretty quickly, and Ryan was alone there blinking at the bewildering engagement he just found himself in. That was the billionaire? What?
Then a cold sweat suddenly gave him whiplash as he just realized he knocked over his new boss on his first day of work.
He calmed himself down, knowing he may have left a bad impression but there's no way to rewrite the past, so he'd just let it go. Hopefully, a billionaire wouldn't sue him for getting his ass covered in shoe dirt.
He made it to the longue to find Roberto at the end of a table with a few other minorities. He noticed the same white guy from before talking up other white people who were reservedly laughing at his dry jokes. He decided to head over to Roberto who was sitting with two women of Asian descent and another Black fellow who had a mole on his cheek.
Roberto noticed Ryan coming to sit next to them and threw over a smile. Ryan returned the favor.
"Anyways, I was saying even sled dogs have limits," Roberto explained. "We'll have to take breaks every now and then, but they are my pride and joy. They were the fastest to win last year's Iditarod."
"I don't really do dog races in America," one of the Asian ladies told him, she had a Mongolian accent. "I chose to pick northern trails back home or through Russia."
"Oh, I've never gone to Russia," Roberto noted. "I wanted to study abroad in St Petersburg for a semester but missed my opportunity."
"I have distant family in Moscow," the other Asian lady joined in, she had a more western accent. "My family moved to America when I was a baby. An immigrant life, I suppose."
"Chasing the American Dream is something worthwhile," Ryan chimed in, having everyone's attention drawn to him. "To have the money to do it is another thing."
"Where do you come from, again?" the brother asked.
"I came from Canada actually," Ryan answered. "A little town outside of Toronto."
"I've sled dogs in Canada too," Roberto stated. "A lot of winters haven't been receiving much snow lately though."
The black man still didn't divert his eyes from Ryan, instead, he held his hand out and Ryan took it to shake, "I'm Drake."
"Ryan."
One of the Asian ladies, the one who sleds dogs in Russia stood up and leaned over the table to shake Ryan's hand too, "I'm Zoya." He noticed on her wrist had a three hearts tattoo.
"Hi Zoya."
The other woman did the exact thing and announced herself "I'm Chuntao,"Ryan shook her hand as well.
They eventually got their food too and sat together talking about their lives and professions, when Sargent Abraham came into the room, drawing everyone's attention to him, "Everyone! I have an announcement; Mr. Hailey is here!"
The man himself, Mr. Hailey stepped inside, goggle and scarf less as he came front and center for everyone to see.
This time Ryan actually had a moment to look at the guy, and he appeared a little bit different than the front of magazines would suggest. First Ryan could tell this guy was an inch or so shorter than him, secondly the magazines mostly photoshopped him to look thirty or so, because this guy was coming into his early fifties at best. He was a white guy because of course one of the richest men in the world are, he had red hair that had bits of white. It was falling over his face on the left side, but the most key part is that this guy just appeared really tired. His cheeks were sunken in and he had heavy bags under his eyes; he looked like an insomniac.
"You all know me… and from reading your resumes and reports on previous jobs, I probably know you well enough by now," Mr. Hailey greeted with an uneasy strain in his voice. "I'm sure you have all been situated in your teams, and you all have been informed about the circumstances and what system we'll use to find my wife." He glanced at Sargent Abraham and added with a tint of desperation in his eyes, "Kathlyne is still out there, I know it." He cleared his throat and continued, "I don't know why she did something so rash, and I'm sure everyone else in this room may question if I had a hand in her disappearance. And I must admit, I did." Everyone shoulders jumped at such a statement, but before they could even comprehend what that could mean, his voice started to tremble, "We had an argument, it was bad, we both yelled at each other, and we decided to separate to cool our heads. I look out one of the station windows to see her marching out into a blizzard, and that's the last time I saw Kathlyne." His voice cracked as he begged, "Please, I'll pay you anything if we find her. I promise it'll be worth your while, so please…"
No one said anything immediately, too thrown off by a billionaire begging they supposed. But then someone with a cool voice answered him, "Of course we'll find your lovely wife Mr. Hailey," everybody glanced to who said that, to see that white smooth talker from before. Now that everyone was looking at him, Ryan noticed his smile shaped almost like a fox or a hyena. The man placed a hand on his chest as he did a small reassuring bow, "You don't need to worry anymore Mr. Hailey; we'll find your wife in no time at all. Just leave it to us."
Ryan lifted an eyebrow at such an intriguing display of fake reassurance, but Mr. Hailey gave a more naïve, but genuine smile, "Thank you… Thank you… Kathlyne is all I have. I'd give all my money in the world just to see her again."
"And you will," the man with a fox smile swore. "We promise."
We promise? Stop dragging us into your empty promises.
"Alright Mr. Hailey," Sargent Abraham noted as he pulled the billionaire to the side. "Now, time to recount the plans and systems for this expedition. As everyone should be well aware, we will be split into groups of five, six groups each. I will read off each team, so listen up."
First was group one that had Ryan in it of course, Roberto, Chuntao, Sargent Abraham, an Elucid, and lastly as a bonus was Mr. Hailey. Ryan glanced out to who Elucid could be but couldn't tell at the time. Sargent Abraham then stated group two will have Zoya and Drake together. After role call, Sargent Abraham started explaining the trails they'll be searching through. Ryan noticed that some of those trails were regularly used by wild animals, and perhaps Mrs. Hailey's remains were eaten by them. He explained the equipment like the usage of flares, ropes, and all of the basics that every survivalist would already be familiar with.
He then turned his attention to Ryan and stated, "Mr. Harty, I know you are not only the navigator, but you have also been keeping track of the supplies. Have you seen the supply storage yet?"
"No, I haven't, Sargent."
"We'll do that today then," he listed other's names to look at the supplies including Chuntao and then turned to Mr. Hailey. "Mr. Hailey do you have any questions so far."
"Um, no, not yet," Mr. Hailey responded, then glanced at everyone else. "Do they?"
"I do!" the man with a fox smile called, getting everyone's attention again. "When we find Mrs. Hailey, will champagne be good for a celebratory drink?"
Mr. Hailey blinked at that, and with an unsure smile , answered, "I suppose so…"
"Cool, because she only deserves the best," the man smirked.
"She does," Mr. Hailey adverted his eyes, but that unsure smile was still trembling on his lips.
"Oh, and I bet-"
"Mr. Elucid Alastair," Sargent Abraham sighed. "Do you have any constructive questions?"
"What? They're important," Elucid teased. Elucid; this will be one of the guys on their team. Ryan bit his lip in frustration at the thought.
When they finished their meeting, Sargent Abraham led Ryan and some of the others to the supply warehouses. Mr. Hailey almost followed behind them, but the Sargent told him he should just relax. So, he was left behind with the others.
Ryan, Chuntao, and the others inspected the supplies, seeing that it was plentiful and enough to carry on the dog sleds, so they were pretty confident with their listings. They came back to the main room after an hour or so of inspection to see Mr. Hailey be surrounded by Elucid and the other people that were laughing at his jokes earlier. Ryan took note of Mr. Hailey's body language and expressions to see he was straining to put on a front and was just barely keeping along with the conversation. He was surprised at himself to have noticed the way his shoulders sank; he kept his eyes adverted as he held onto that fake smile. Ryan glanced to see Roberto talking with Debbi again and knew he probably should have just gone over to them.
He approached Mr. Hailey and called to him, "Sir?" the group halted their conversation as many blue and green eyes fell on him. "I still have to talk to you about the supplies for the expedition."
"Oh right!" Mr. Hailey exclaimed, hurrying to get out of the circle of people. "Please, tell me about it."
"Of course," Ryan glanced at the group that he was pulling Mr. Hailey away from to see cold glares, one especially from Elucid.
…Great.
Ryan took Mr. Hailey into the hallway to talk, "So we have been checking out the supplies, and everything seems to be accounted for."
"That's good," Mr. Hailey noted.
"Mhm, but Mr. Hailey some other things probably should have been taken into account."
"Like what?"
"Well…" Ryan thought, "Like, I've heard you've driven a snowmobile from Sargent Abraham, but have you ever driven a dog sled?"
"A few times," Mr. Hailey answered.
"Well I think someone should be teamed up with you in case it becomes too difficult," Ryan suggested.
"No, I can do it!" Mr. Hailey stated confidently. "I remember how."
"Hm," Ryan was hesitant, because he could tell just from looking at the guy that he had little experience in any survival scenarios, real or simulated. "Sir, may I ask you something?"
"You don't need to call me sir, but go ahead," Mr. Hailey responded.
"Right… Mr. Hailey, why did you and your wife decide to vacation down here in the first place?" Ryan questioned. "This hardly seems like the hottest vacation spot for married couples?"
"Ah… yes," Mr. Hailey downcast his eyes as he explained, "Kathlyne and I were getting pretty tired from the exposure of the press, and the stress of the civil conflict from some of our sister companies. So, we decided to go to an isolated spot, and Kathlyne suggested we go to a place where no one would really follow us. Press would chase us anywhere, especially some sort of tropical resort or something, so Kathlyne said 'Why not Antarctica?' She liked snow and I was ready for just about anything. And no way would a single reporter come out of their way, all the way down here. So, Antarctica was our best option. The thought of seclusion, peace and quiet was a nice thought. There was no reception on that base further inland so I wouldn't constantly be hammered by phone calls. It seemed like a good idea… at the time."
Ryan nodded, satisfied with his answer. Mr. Hailey was pretty convincing, doing good on making himself not out to be the bad guy. Ryan was so close to believing he wouldn't do it, but he couldn't really tell just yet, "But you stayed inside mostly, right?"
"Yes, though that probably wasn't the smartest idea because we kept getting cabin fever," Mr. Hailey noted. "Yeah, it was a bad decision."
Ryan noticed Mr. Hailey's eyes becoming more somber, his expression looking like it would be best situated in a vacant bar in the middle of the night at the end of a quiet city, "Well if you think you're competent enough to keep up then that's fine, but if you find our pace too fast, please speak up."
"Of course," Mr. Hailey nodded.
They parted ways and Ryan quickly noticed that Mr. Hailey was sucked back again into Elucid's group. He shook his head, knowing how some people just can't say no.
Later that evening he was with Roberto, Debbi, and a small British Indian man who was part of another group named Samson. He was almost as short as Roberto, but not nearly as stout. His British accent was heavy; it was almost as thick as some Irish dialects that Ryan's heard before. Samson had a pair of crooked reading glasses on his head, and a runny nose.
"So, what's your thing, Sammy?" Debbi asked.
"Uh, well you see I have a degree in several medical and biological fields, but I'm currently have been working with a few bio companies experiments," Samson explained. "A project we finished a few years ago that hasn't really been released to the public is our portable DNA scanner."
"Portable DNA scanner?" Ryan repeated, kind of amazed and baffled at the same time.
"Yes, we won't need to bring the remains to some DNA scanner at a police station or something anymore," Samson answered. "We've invented a completed project that you can carry on your back or in this case, the back of a dog sled, that should be able to detect the remains of any individual stranger listed on said device. It'll be a piece of cake since we got Mrs. Hailey's DNA on record. It's rather fascinating to see how far we've come, and this is a great opportunity to debut the item. With this case, we'll get great coverage once we find Mrs. Hailey's remains."
"Sounds pretty important," Roberto noted.
"Oh, it is," Samson excitingly replied. "With this new technology, police units will be able to narrow in on a case using our scanners even onsite of a crime scene. Though it'd be nice if I could have been on the team with Mr. Hailey, finding it with him would make great headlines. I really don't get why he didn't want me on his team."
"Maybe he just wanted people he knows can protect him?" Ryan suggested.
"It can't be all that dangerous out there," Samson sighed. "I really should have been put on his team. I am the genius who made this equipment after all. I think it's only fair." Samson sniffled his nose as he finished off with, "Well at least the tech is being used."
"Good thing you are bringing that thing or unless you're lucky, you'll be coming back and forth here and there a lot," Debbi told him.
"Huh? Why do you say that?" Samson questioned, getting a nervous look in his eyes.
"Because there are a lot of people that go missing down here," Debbi told him. "Not many get as great coverage as Mrs. Hailey, but that doesn't mean that the numbers of disappearances have decreased either."
"How come there are so many people going missing?" Ryan questioned.
"Beats me," Debbi shrugged. "But that's why I believe Mr. Hailey on his wife's disappearance. Hell, people have been disappearing even before I came down here. Many say the same thing as Mr. Hailey, they just walk out into a blizzard or something and are never heard of again. It's pretty rare to even find remains of people. But if you do, they might not be Mrs. Hailey."
"Damn," Ryan sighed. "How many disappearances has there been?"
"Dunno, maybe about over fifty over the past ten years," Debbi answered.
"Over fifty?!"
"Maybe more, none of them were really survivalists," Debbi said. "Some were tourists or people who just worked here."
"Still, that's kind of a lot," Ryan noted. "Were any of them found?"
"Not that I heard," Debbi shook her head.
"Well, it's okay," Roberto nudged. "I'm one of the best dog sled racers I know, so this'll be a catwalk."
"Cakewalk."
"Cakewalk," Roberto chuckled.
"I'm pretty confident in my skills too," Ryan stated. "I'm just a bit alarmed that so many people haven't been recovered."
"Let's just hope the environment won't be too cruel to us, huh?" Samson suggested.
"Let's hope not."