Chapter 9 #2
Meanwhile, Dr. Keene was oblivious to the tension, practically skipping as he followed Koos through the facility. “Marvelous setup! Simply marvelous! The proximity to the ice field is perfect for our core samples. And there’s a direct access point to the subglacial water system?”
“About five kilometers north of here,” Koos confirmed. “But the weather hasn’t been cooperative lately. Ice shifting more than usual.”
Fuck. Unstable terrain was a death trap out here.
Nothing about this place or expedition felt right. The unexplained summer crew, the mysterious Russians with their biometrically secured lab, the excessive surveillance…
It all felt like walking into a trap with the door slowly closing behind them.
And if Rue hadn’t called him, she’d be here alone. The thought had terror-laced bile rising in his throat.
They reached the sleeping quarters, a narrow corridor lined with doors that looked like they belonged on a submarine. Each room barely qualified as a closet—just wide enough for bunk beds and a small storage locker.
“Home sweet home,” Koos announced, opening the first door with a flourish. “Dr. Keene, you and your students are in here. Three bunks, cozy as promised.”
Tyler peered into the cramped space and let out a low whistle. “It’s like a really expensive coffin.”
“Ugh, Tyler, don’t be morbid,” Mia said and shouldered past him, claiming one of the bottom bunks for herself.
“Bathrooms and showers are to the left,” Koos added, motioning to where the corridor split into a T.
“To the right is Lab A, where you can set up for your research. There’s also storage down there—food, cleaning supplies, and all that.
You make a mess, you clean it up, and we take turns with dinner prep. Those are the station rules.”
Dr. Volkova had been silently observing until now, her pale eyes taking in every detail of the station. “Is there a medical bay?”
“Yes,” Koos replied. “Down the hall past the kitchen. Fully stocked, though we’re not equipped for major surgeries.”
“I’ll need to familiarize myself with the equipment,” Dr. Volkova said, her tone clinical and detached. “And everyone will need a physical before beginning fieldwork. Antarctic conditions can exacerbate pre-existing conditions.”
Elliot watched Noah Braddock shift at the mention of physicals, a slight tensing of his shoulders that would’ve been imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t trained to notice such things. Interesting. What was Braddock hiding that a medical exam made him nervous?
“This way, Ms. Middleton,” Koos said, moving down the corridor to the next door. “You’ll be in here.”
Camille hovered at the threshold, not entering the room. Her expression morphed from expectant to horrified as she stared into the tiny space.
“This is a joke, right?” She turned to Koos, then to Rue. “There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake,” Koos said cheerfully. “Standard quarters for everyone.”
Elliot shifted the weight of her ridiculous bag, his shoulder muscles burning from carrying it through the station. The thing had to weigh at least sixty pounds.
Camille took one step into the room and made a sound like she’d just discovered a dead rat in her designer purse. “This is... this is unacceptable. It’s barely larger than a prison cell.”
“Actually,” Elliot said, unable to help himself, “prison cells are typically larger.”
Rue shot him a look that was half warning, half amusement.
“I was promised adequate accommodations,” Camille continued, her voice climbing higher. “This is hardly adequate for someone of my position.”
“Your position is the same as everyone else’s out here,” Rue said firmly. “But if you want a larger room, you can share with Irina. I’m sure there is another double bunk available.”
“Oh, there is,” Koos said good-naturedly.
Camille looked at Irina, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She lifted her chin and stepped fully into the room, running a finger over the metal frame of the single narrow bed. “This will… suffice.”
Koos chuckled and continued down the hall, showing Noah and Irina into two more single bunks. Then just before the T-intersection, he stopped and pushed open the final door with a flourish. “And for the happy couple… the honeymoon suite.”
Elliot peered inside. It was a little bigger, but not by much, and like Dr. Keene and the students’ room, it contained metal bunk beds bolted to the wall, two narrow lockers, and barely enough floor space for two people to stand side-by-side.
The walls were painted the same institutional white as the rest of the station, though someone had taped up faded photographs of tropical beaches—another sad attempt at making Antarctica feel less isolating.
“Bunk beds!” Rue exclaimed, brushing past him with undisguised glee. “I call top bunk!”
Before he could respond, she’d already tossed her pack onto the upper mattress and was scaling the metal ladder with the agility of someone who’d spent half her life climbing things that shouldn’t be climbed.
“This is perfect,” she declared, sprawling across the thin mattress and grinning down at him. “I haven’t slept in a bunk bed since that rescue mission in Nepal.”
Elliot stood frozen in the doorway, a strange disappointment washing through him. He hadn’t consciously been expecting them to share a bed, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d assumed...
Christ. What was wrong with him? This was better.
Safer. A clear physical boundary between them was exactly what they needed, especially after that almost-kiss outside her hotel.
Separate bunks meant no accidental middle-of-the-night contact, no waking up with a morning boner and her warm body pressed against his, no opportunity for his subconscious to betray him.
“Wow, don’t look so thrilled, El,” Rue teased, propping herself up on one elbow. “Were you hoping for an actual honeymoon suite?”
He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way her honey-gold hair fell across her face. “No, of course not. This is fine.”
“Fine? It’s amazing! We’re at the bottom of the world in a research station that’s basically a pressurized tin can. How many people can say they’ve done that?”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, despite the alarm bells still ringing in his head about the station’s unexpected occupants.
He set his bag on the lower bunk and unzipped his parka, hanging his outer gear on one of the three hooks mounted to the wall.
The room immediately felt even smaller with his bulky coat taking up precious space.
Rue sat up, her head nearly touching the ceiling. “Oh, come on! Don’t pretend you’re not at least a little excited to be here. This is an adventure!”
“It’s a mission,” he corrected quietly, conscious of the camera he’d spotted in the corner of the hallway. He wasn’t sure if their room was monitored, but until he could do a sweep, he wasn’t taking chances. “With unexpected complications.”
Rue exhaled in exasperation. “It’s always work, work, work with you, Wilde.” But her smile dimmed slightly as she said it, and she glanced at the door, then back to him, her expression growing more serious.
“You mean the summer crew.”
“I don’t like that they’re here and we have no way of checking they are who they say they are.” He unzipped his duffel and began transferring his clothes to the small locker beside the bunks. “I don’t like surprises.”
“I’ve noticed. You looked like you were going to shoot someone at your birthday party.” Her smile returned, but it had a harder edge now. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big, bad scientists.”
He shot her a look that made her grin widen.
“I want to tour the station without Koos looking over my shoulder,” he said, changing the subject. “And with Jess manning the comm station, I’m going to have to get creative setting up a direct line to WSW.”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, dangling them above him. The proximity made his pulse quicken despite his best efforts. “That’s what I love about you, El. Always thinking ahead.”
Love. The word hit him with more force than it should have. Jesus, it was just an expression. Rue threw around affection like confetti, meaningless and bright.
“Someone has to,” he said, more gruffly than he intended.
She tilted her head, studying him with those perceptive eyes that always saw too much. “You okay? You seem extra tense, even for you.”
“I’m fine.” He closed the locker with more force than necessary. “Just... processing.”
Rue slid down from the bunk, landing lightly beside him. In the confined space, she was close enough that he could smell her shampoo—something tropical that seemed wildly out of place in this frozen wasteland.
“The cameras, the biometric locks, the Russians we weren’t briefed about? I noticed it all, too,” she murmured, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned closer to grab her pack off the bed. “We’ll figure it out.”
Her confidence should have been reassuring. Instead, it only heightened his anxiety. Rue had never met a dangerous situation she didn’t want to charge straight into.
“We need to be careful,” he said, meeting her gaze. “This isn’t one of your normal adventures.”
Sadness flashed in her eyes, there and gone so fast he wondered if he imagined it.
“I know that better than anyone, El.”
Before he could respond, a knock at their door made them both turn. Koos stood in the doorway, his expression friendly but his eyes sharp.
“I’m making dinner tonight,” he announced. “To welcome you all and give you time to settle in. Six O’clock, sharp. You won’t want to miss it.”
“Thanks,” Rue said with her most winning smile. “We’ll be there.”
As Koos’s footsteps receded down the hallway, Elliot caught her arm before she could follow.
“Listen to me,” he said, keeping his voice soft in case someone was eavesdropping. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s bigger than what Frost told us. Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”
Her smile turned mischievous. “Define ‘reckless.’”
“Rue—”
“Relax.” She patted his chest, her hand lingering just a moment too long. “I’ll be the very picture of caution.”
“And, yet, somehow, I’m not convinced.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” She booped his nose with the tip of her finger and slipped past him into the hallway. “Come on, fiancé. We’ve got a welcome dinner to attend.”
Elliot took one last look at their cramped quarters before following her. The bunk beds seemed to mock him with their rigid separation, their clear boundaries. He was an idiot for even thinking about sharing a bed with Rue, even in the most innocent sense. This arrangement was better. Safer.
So why did he feel so damn disappointed?
He shook off the thought and stepped into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind him. Whatever was happening at Thwaites Station, he needed to keep his head clear and his focus sharp.
No distractions. No complications. No crossing lines with Rue Bristow that couldn’t be uncrossed.
Even if part of him desperately wanted to.