Free Apocalypse Weird: Reversal (Polar Wyrd Book 1) by Jennifer Ellis Page B

leapt to attention, throwing off his blanket and drawing out the gun that he had clearly slept with.
    His face registered shock, and he too blinked his eyes open and closed as if unable to reconcile himself to his newfound reality.
    “Can you?” he asked, seemingly not trusting himself to even say the word see.
    She nodded.
    The storm had abated, and benevolent shafts of sunlight filtered in through the snowdrifts piled against the station window.
    At this moment, sight meant everything. Sight meant they would possibly get out of here alive, that the world was not ending, especially if everyone else in the world could see again as well.
    Soren’s expression reflected a similar welter of emotions.
    He rose from the couch. Tundra leapt up too and head-butted Soren, howling a morning greeting. Sasha felt for Timber. Crusted blood marked the outlines of his wound. She had hoped to stitch it the previous day. But no matter how hard she had tried, she could not thread the needle blind, so she had plastered it with antibiotic cream and hoped for the best.
    “Do you think this is just temporary—the return of our sight, I mean?” she asked.
    “I don’t even want to think about it. I’ll get breakfast. You try the Internet, radio, and sat phone. Then we have some bodies to clean up, and we need to get out and look for the rest of the dogs, and the others.”
    Soren rebuilt the station fire and proceeded to cook eggs. They both still moved with the slow wariness of the sightless, feeling for obstacles and carefully placing themselves at their workstations.
    The Internet was, not surprisingly, down, and there was no sat phone signal. Turning the radio to the Retort Air Force Base channel yielded only static. But if everyone in the world had been blind until this morning, it might take a while for things to come back on line. There was no reason not to be optimistic. All those things—Ice, Vincent, the dead bodies, the strange languages—that had seemed insurmountable and terrifying in blindness, seemed surely to have logical explanations by the light of day. She had already peered out the station window to confirm that no military or alien encampment surrounded them. She rose and fed the dogs. Then she started to trawl through the static.
    A loud thumping came from the door to the sleeping wing.
    “Let me out. Let me out of here, right now,” Amber yelled.
    Soren unlocked the door, and jerked back as Amber leapt out with a drawn gun pointed directly at Soren. He threw his hands into the air.
    Her gun was trembling. “Was it you? Did you come into our room?” She almost sobbed the words. Then she flicked her head around to Sasha. “Where is everyone else? Are you in on this with him? Keep those infernal dogs away from me.”
    “Amber,” Soren tried for a soothing voice, but it snapped with anger around the edges. “I did not come anywhere near your room. Edie, Cal, and Kyle all went missing in the storm. I don’t think it was the dogs that attacked you. We’ve all been blind for the past twenty-four hours. Everyone in the world has been blind. Please put down that gun and so we can talk about this like rational people.”
    “Then where is Robert?” Amber’s voice shook. “Why did someone come into our room? Who did attack us?”
    “I don’t know,” said Soren. “I promise you, I came nowhere near your room at any time.”
    “I don’t believe you. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing Soren Anderson.”
    Soren visibly flinched. “What are you implying, Amber?”
    “Don’t think I haven’t heard about your past. About Marina. I know why you left Antarctica. Convenient for you that the only two people left here are the two most attractive women. I demand a military transport out of here. Today. Immediately.” Amber flicked a look at Sasha. “You’d be wise to come, too.”
    This break in focus was all Soren needed. He wrenched the gun out of Amber’s hand and swept her feet out from