Free Melt by Robbi McCoy

Greenland, Chuck had promised her “the adventure of a lifetime.” Of course that had piqued Kelly’s interest. She wasn’t someone who would turn down the adventure of a lifetime . She looked around at the vast, hostile wilderness she was trapped in. You were right, you son of a bitch!
    She wondered how long it would be before he would miss her. If he even would. He probably wouldn’t notice her absence until tomorrow morning when she didn’t turn up for breakfast. No, she reminded herself, she would be there for breakfast. It was only a few more miles. Chuck would remain cheerfully oblivious to her ordeal and walk into the dining room tomorrow morning, failing to notice her scratches, bruises and haggard appearance and say, “ God morgen, alle !” Then he’d tell them how well he had slept once he found that horrid little pea under his mattress that had kept him tossing and turning until midnight.
    Then Kelly would strangle him.
    She uncapped her water bottle and drained the last of it. The standing water everywhere around her was probably safe to drink. It wasn’t like there was a herd of cows grazing anywhere nearby. But there were musk oxen, she understood, and reindeer. Still, it didn’t seem likely there was anything to worry about. She hadn’t seen a single animal other than sled dogs since she’d set foot in Greenland.
    All she had seen so far of marine mammals were a couple of black dots in the water reputed to be seals and a whale carcass on the shore. Just the skeleton, left there by hunters after they harvested the meat. In ancient times, the bones wouldn’t have been left behind. They were valuable, like every part of every animal. According to Chuck, the Greenland Inuit used to make their winter houses out of whale bones, using them like other people use framing lumber, then layering on animal skins and turf to create a cozy den. They knew all the tricks for survival here in the Arctic. Goes without saying, she thought. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been around very long. Like the doomed Vikings.
    A mosquito buzzed near her ear and lit on her cheek. She slapped at it and got up. Sitting still was a sure way to get eaten up by mosquitoes. She glanced at her phone to see the time. It was just past five o’clock. The “No Service” message persisted. She had wasted so much time. She began to worry that she wouldn’t make it before the sun fell low on the horizon and gave no warmth. She worried that Pippa might be lying somewhere exposed to the elements. Summer nights in Greenland could get very cold. No more breaks, she told herself, hoping she had the strength to keep moving until she reached her destination.
    Aiming hopefully toward what she thought was a trail cairn, she slogged slowly through the muck, thinking that if she could just regain the official trail, she would make much faster progress. It wasn’t a cairn after all, just a jumble of rocks. She was hot, tired and increasingly frustrated. Mosquitoes swarmed around her. The repellent was surely saving her life, but a few intrepid insects had their way with her anyway.
    Her only goal now was to get out of the bog. She aimed for a passage up ahead that would lift her out of this mire and onto a higher path. Her pace had slowed to a miserable crawl since she’d entered this valley. She climbed upslope and finally onto solid rock. She kept climbing and emerged at a point where the bay came into view a mere quarter mile away. She stopped walking just long enough to congratulate herself on surviving the bog ordeal.
    With the sun low on the horizon, the light had a golden hue, casting long shadows and changing the appearance of the sea ice. The icebergs were yellowed, the color of old newspaper and glowing in an entirely different way than at mid day, with a soft aura. The air had gotten noticeably cooler, so she took her jacket out of her pack and put it on. The bay was as beautiful as ever, but she wasn’t as charmed by it as she had