Apocalypse Weird: Reversal (Polar Wyrd Book 1) by Jennifer Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

neither of them tripped over any dead bodies. The faint smell told her what Soren had not yet informed her after all his trips outside the previous night—something or someone had died there. Kyle? Robert? One of the dogs? It seemed bizarre not to know, to ignore the stink and carry on.
    Once she, Soren, and Tundra were all tied to the sled, they opened the bay door and headed out. The storm had diminished into a comparatively gentle squall. Ice and snow no longer pelted their faces, and the wind did not seem so determined to rip them from their feet. It seemed almost…warm. Well, warm for the Arctic fall. If the temperature had risen a few hours ago, it was possible Kyle, Edie, Cal, and Robert were still alive. That is if the weather had been their only adversary. Sasha suppressed a shudder and resisted pointlessly glancing over her shoulder to see if anything was behind them.
    They agreed to head northwest in the direction of the warming hut for a few miles. This would put them between a couple of the eastern coastal mountains from a radio perspective, and Soren was hoping to pick up a signal from Greenland. Since Tundra alone could not pull them both, one person would ride, while the other jogged, switching off to keep up their stamina and pace. They had briefly considered taking out one of the machines, but decided driving blind was out of the question, given the sheer cliffs to the both east and northwest. Sasha prayed that Tundra could in fact see.
    Soren ordered the GPS to mark their current location as the home base waypoint, and the GPS responded affirmatively. “All right,” he said to Tundra. “Don’t let me down, buddy. Haw. Easy.” Sasha gripped the handles of the sled as Tundra set off over the white plain, Soren’s booted footfalls crunching in the snow beside her.
    They turned to the left out of the station and traveled for a few seconds before Soren addressed the GPS again. “Take us on a 315 degree heading northwest,” he said. It was his best guess regarding the direction of the hut. Soren, not surprisingly, didn’t have the lat long memorized, and they could hardly consult the map of northern Ellesmere that hung over the lab desk. Until last night, she and Soren had lived so very thoroughly in a sighted person’s world. It was surreal to travel through utter nothingness and know that light was in fact all around them.
    “Turn 100 degrees to the right and head straight 315 degrees northwest,” the GPS responded.
    Soren’s let out a frustrated exhale. “I hate these stupid things. We’re facing north. Why is it instructing us to turn around?”
    “Maybe it’s confused. It probably wants lat long coordinates, or UTM,” Sasha said. “Do you know any lat long coordinates around here? Could you guesstimate them maybe?”
    “No. I know we’re 82 degrees north by 80 degrees west. But that refers to the whole northwestern part of the island. Goddamn technology. I’d give my ass for a braille compass right now.”
    Despite the circumstances, Sasha giggled at Soren’s comment, or perhaps it was the thought of his ass. She was drunk on exhaustion and blindness.
    “Okay GPS, take us due North.”
    “Turn 122.5 degrees to your right and head due North,” the electronic voice offered.
    “That’s almost due South, you blasted thing,” Soren barked.
    “Maybe we should just head the direction we think the hut is and use the GPS to get back. Surely it’ll trace our route,” Sasha said.
    Soren ignored her. “GPS take us to 76 degrees north by 80 degrees west.”
    “Remain on your current heading to 76 degrees north by 80 degrees west.”
    “This thing is totally back to front. 76 degrees north is due south of here, and it’s telling us to go north to get there. I hate technology.”
    Sasha imagined that if they had not been in such dire circumstances that Soren would have chucked the GPS as far as he could in disgust. Perhaps he had.
    “So what do we do?”
    “We carry on the way we