mayonnaise. He took a fresh jar from the refrigerator. He saw himself reflected in the steel door, and saw the phantom blur of a man standing behind him.
‘Better make that your last snack,’ said Rawlins. ‘I need a list. An inventory of all the food we have left.’
‘Already done.’
‘You can lock these freezers and fridges, yes?’
‘I’ve got keys somewhere.’
‘One set for you, one set for me. Keep them locked at all times.’
‘Okay.’
‘Everyone is perfectly civil right now. A few months from now food will run short and it will be a different story. Situation could turn ugly.’
‘Yeah.’
‘People hoarding, fighting.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘How about dry goods? Cans and stuff?’
‘There’s a crappy lock on the storeroom.’
‘Speak to Ghost. Get a decent padlock and bring me the key. What’s for breakfast?’
‘The last of the real eggs.’
‘Excellent. Well. See you later.’
Rawlins left the kitchen. He scratched his head on the way out of the door. The edge of his leather jacket lifted for a moment and exposed the yellow butt of his Taser slung in a nylon holster. He had a red can of pepper spray in a pouch on his belt. A sheriff ready to lay down the law.
Jane tried to think up a reason to visit Ghost. Maybe she could help him pack for his expedition to the island.
She walked to the pump hall. She found him sitting on his bunk, slotting batteries into a yellow box.
‘Need a hand?’
‘I’m okay.’
‘What’s the box?’
‘Nautical beacon. Beeps a locator signal. The Apex guys are stumbling around in the dark out there. If we set this thing pinging it will lead them straight to us. And they’ll reach that cabin along the route.’
‘Sure they have a tracker?’
‘Yeah. They were carrying one so they could rendezvous with their relief plane.’
‘Cool.’
‘It’s short range, though. Too many crags between us and them. We need to get it up high.’
‘We could use the radio tower. Lash it to the scaffold.’
‘Want to give me a hand?’
They dressed in the airlock. Heavy Ventile coats, rubber boots and ski masks. Ghost unwound his turban and tied his hair in a ponytail. Jane zipped her snorkel hood and buckled gauntlets.
‘Been outside much?’ asked Ghost as he strapped Jane into a full body harness. His voice was muffled by his mask. His eyes were hidden behind black goggles.
‘Never in a storm.’
‘Soon as we get out on to the walkway, grab the railing. There’s a guide wire. Clip yourself to the wire before taking another step, all right? The wind could throw you clean over the side.’
Ghost handed Jane a shockproof spotlight.
‘Million candlepower. Don’t look into it. I’ll climb the mast. Keep the light on me.’
He sealed the internal door. He spun the hatch wheel and pushed the external door. Alarm. Warning strobes. Sudden jet- roar of wind noise as the power-assisted hatch slid back. Jane was blasted by driving ice particles. She rocked on her feet.
‘You all right?’ shouted Ghost.
‘It’s hell out there.’
‘Yeah. Know what? I reckon some of us won’t make it home.’
Mayday
The storm passed.
Sian stood on the deck and sipped coffee. Her mug broiled like a witches’ brew. She was standing on a walkway above the fresh water storage tanks. She wanted to enjoy the sun before the long Arctic night began and the rig was left in permanent darkness.
Sian often took refuge outside. She got a lot of male attention. She heard a rumour the crewmen took a bet when she first joined the rig. First to fuck the new girl. Four months later, nobody won the bet. She overheard Nail call her ‘the dyke’.
She took the job because she was bored. She was counter staff at Barclays Bank in Portsmouth. She saw an advert:
Coral Recruitment
Overseas Jobs
Oil industry administrator
Will provide secretarial support to installation manager. Strong organisational skills and a keen eye for detail are important aspects of the role. Good salary, insurance, flights and negotiable bonus.
She took the job. Friends threw a party the night before she flew to Norway.
They said she was brave. They said she would have a big adventure. She would come home with stories.
There used to be planes overhead. Earlier that year the blue and cloudless sky had often been bisected by the contrails of jets patrolling the Russian frontier. Now the sky was empty.
She saw a ship. A dot on the horizon. A tanker funnel. She dropped her coffee and sprinted to an airlock intercom. Rawlins came running followed by the crew. They gathered on the helipad. They waved and shouted. Ghost fired flares. The tanker didn’t turn or slow.
Rawlins had binoculars.
‘Japanese flag,’ he said. ‘There are men on deck.’
‘Maybe they saw us,’ said Sian. ‘It takes a while for a tanker to respond.’
The ship kept going.
Sian joined Jane in the observation bubble. They watched the distant ship through the window.
‘Japanese tanker, this is Kasker Rampart twenty kilometres east of your position. Requesting urgent assistance, over.’
No reply.
‘Japanese tanker, this is Con Amalgam refinery Kasker Rampart twenty kilometres east of your position. We are British crewmen requesting evacuation, over. Japanese tanker, we badly need your help. Please respond.’ The ship sailed out of sight.
‘I can’t believe they didn’t see us,’ said Sian.
‘They saw us,’ said Jane. ‘They just didn’t want to stop.’
‘Rampart, this is Apex base.’
‘How’s it going, Simon?’ asked Jane.
‘We made less time than I hoped. We were walking into the wind. We covered less than five kilometres’
‘The storm has cleared. You have a window of good weather. Make the most of it.’
‘We’re weak. We’re hungry.’
‘Once you cross that second inlet you can ditch the boat. Should lighten your load.’
‘We’re all pretty shattered.’
‘Hold it together forty-eight hours and you’re home and dry. A little more walking. That’s all that stands between you and the rest of your life. What about food? Do you have anything left at all?’
‘We’ve been eating toothpaste.’
‘Get some sleep. Just make it through tomorrow. That’s all you have to think about. One foot in front of the
