Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Ten minutes later two occupants from the mega buggy start to make their way through what can only be called the snowstorm from hell. It literally came from nowhere with a frightening force and winds that rock our buggy good.
I’m serious.
One minute, right before the mega buggy arrived, it was a frozen but with a clear as day sky… and now, there’s a full-on blizzard.
Like one snowflake screwed another snowflake that had accidently fallen into toxic waste creating a super storm for the ages.
I’m not scared.
But I’m scared.
Every time something creaks in the buggy, I’m ready to pour more champagne or plaster myself against the wall to hold it up or give it my aid by using body heat to make sure the glue and nuts and bolts or whatever’s holding it together stay that way.
More and more noises creak around us as the storm seems to pick up speed like something’s feeding it steroids. Seriously, what the hell!?
I huddle closer to Grace. “Is this the part in the movie where all the rich people get stuck outside in the storm and we run out of food and have to eat each other?” I ask as I stare out on the ominous sky.
“You’re hilarious,” she replies, but I can see the worry in her eyes, and I know her forced bored tone. She’s trying to be aloof for my sake. It’s not working.
“Am I?” I respond in annoyance. “I kind of don’t think it’s funny since I’m the poorest one here and I’ll be the one who’s eaten first.”
“I’ll protect you,” she says like she means it basically confirming that just like virgins in horror movies—poor people die first in the Arctic. “And besides, you’re too thin— we’ll need girth and real fatty meat to survive.”
“That sounds like you’re actually thinking about it,” I narrow my eyes.
She bursts out in laughter. “I’m just being funny and complimenting you in one breath.”
“Fine,” I reply, but now I feel like I’m gonna have to side eye the other occupants and identify the weakest link (beside me).
She’s not wrong though.
I am thin. Hated forever by my friends growing up because I can eat whatever I want and not have to think about it.
I’ve been the same weight since I was in high school—at five foot six, I’ve stayed one hundred and eleven pounds—I know.
I’m an asshole. I have great hair too--it’s long, past my shoulders and black.
I have my dad’s blue eyes so the contrast can be startling for some.
I don’t really wear make-up and try and downplay my looks, but I know I’m lucky that I don’t have to think about what’s happening on the exterior part of me…
the interior part, now that’s another story.
That’s a whole hot mess.
I’m a Monet— from far away it looks good, but when you get up close and personal that’s when you start to see all the flaws. The meshing of colors… the blurry lines, the parts that don’t make any sense.
The imperfections.
I can go on and on, but who has the time?
I’ve already internally dissected myself on a daily basis for years and the math always checks out.
There’s something intrinsically unlovable about me.
The asshole that left last made sure I knew it too.
It was me not him, he said. I was the problem.
I was a pretty vase meant to be kept in a case and if broken, a mess of an embarrassment inside.
“Is that a polar bear?” I hear Ellie, the “girlfriend” who’d been taking selfies practically scream and point out the window. I vote shovel butt off the island first.
We all immediately rush toward the direction she’s pointing at.
Despite the ominous blizzard, we can make the shape. And yes, it is indeed a polar bear, and it looks as though it might be running after the two tall men making their way toward our buggy. Why aren’t they sprinting? Do they not smell the predator?
“I think we’re about to be part of a ‘when nature attacks episode’,” Grace whispers to me as we stare out at the unreal scene playing before us.
Good lord, I never knew polar bears could run so fast.
They can. Scary fast. Apparently polar bears are the sprinters of the bear communities, good to know, good to know… tucking that away for later when I have to outrun Ellie and shove her face first into the snow. Only the smartest survive and I work smarter not harder.
Somehow the bear seems to pick up speed. Even if I wanted, I can’t record what’s happening on my iPhone. I’m too riveted. Too in the moment.
Too ready to see what in God’s name is about to happen in real time.
Will they be eaten alive right before our eyes? The probability is high. The odds are definitely not in their favor. Talk about a messed-up winter’s coming version of the Hunger Games.
There’s a good chance this trip might take a turn for the worse in about thirty seconds.
“I hope they’re carrying,” I whisper under my breath to Grace.
She can’t answer me.
In fact, the silence in our buggy is ominous. We’re all watching to see what happens. The men start running, getting closer to our buggy— along with the polar bear of course.
“Should we open the door for them?” Henry, Devon’s best friend asks in that polite English way that’s way too slow and unrushed for the current circumstances. Um, no, sir, please thou shalst not open the damn door for them lest we become supper!
His eyes are wide, arms crossed— his bald head has sweat beads forming and dripping down his face.
“Hell no!” I yell out. “Are you crazy?! Are you watching that polar bear?! It’s like gaining speed with every second! I counted.” I didn’t, but he doesn’t know that and it’s the principal of the matter!
“We can’t let them die, Charlie,” Henry whispers back in a very unconvincing voice. I know he silently agrees.
If the door opens what if the polar bear gets inside and kills us all? What then?
“Why not?” I ask the question out loud. “We don’t even know these people, they could be cannibals! By choice!”
All eyes turn to me. Suddenly I’m the asshole, even though I know everyone is thinking the same thing. These people don’t want to die, they’re too rich to die!
Besides, they have much more to live for than me. I’m just the one voicing it out loud.
“Holy. Shit.” Devon says out loud, eyes riveted to the scene before us.
Holy shit is right.
One of the men stopped running.
Completely stopped. Has turned and is in real time facing the incoming apex predator like Edward in New Moon facing the Vultori, bet he’s even closing his eyes like it’s about to be finished, he’ll be exposed.
“What the…” someone says, but I’m not sure who because I’m thinking the same thing.
Does this guy have a death wish?
Are we about to watch a polar bear eat a human? Why is nobody else freaking out like I am?
“Grab my phone, babe!” Ellie calls out to her boyfriend. Oh dear God. Here we go.
She’s obviously determined to film this. Why can’t the stupid ones die first?
I step away from the group and move right up to the window and put my hands against the glass and stare out at the scene. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s almost… magical?
I mean, this guy is definitely about to be mauled and eaten by this polar bear, but the way he’s stopped and is staring it down is like…
Legendary?
And then the craziest thing happens.
The polar bear starts to slow down and like a driver pressing down hard on the breaks, the bear literally skids to a complete stop in front of the man.
The bear stands on its feet, rising high and showcasing its enormous height. Honestly, the man doesn’t look much smaller than him which is extremely strange. Just how tall is he? How tall is the bear?
They kind of resemble two great beasts—like they’re a match somehow.
I think it can’t get crazier and it suddenly does.
The polar bear puts his paws down and bows his head meekly in front of the man, who’s now holding out his hand in front of him, like he’s asking the bear to be docile.
Holy shit.
The bear listens.
Ladies and Gentlemen, here we have the bear whisperer.
They stay like that for a while before the bear turns and I swear to god locks eyes with me—yes my face is still pressed up against the glass, glued to the scene like I’m somehow taking part in it—looks at the man, then turns and runs away like it’s just another day in the polar bear world.
Before I can even process any part of this, the man turns and looks right at the buggy—right at the glass—right at me.
He has the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.