“Just one more shot,” he called back, not bothering to look at her. “This angle is perfect for showing the drilling site in context with the glacier behind it.”
Rue quickened her pace, snow crunching under her boots. “Tyler, that’s an order! The ice hasn’t been checked beyond the markers.”
She watched in growing alarm as he set up his camera’s tripod just outside the safety line, positioning it for what he clearly thought would be a dramatic photo of the drilling process.
“Look, I’m just a few feet outside the grid,” he said when she reached him, his tone dismissive. “The ice is solid. See?” He stomped his boot for emphasis.
“That proves nothing.” She grabbed his arm, intending to haul him back to safety. “Ice formations can be hollow underneath. There could be crevasses masked by surface snow. This isn’t a game.”
“I’m not playing,” Tyler protested, pulling away from her grip. “I’m documenting. It’s literally my job.”
“Your job is to follow safety protocols,” she countered. “And right now, you’re risking not just your life but potentially the entire team’s if we have to perform a rescue.”
Behind them, the others had paused their work, watching the confrontation with varying degrees of concern. Elliot had moved closer, ready to intervene if needed. Noah and Mia remained by the equipment.
“Fine.” Tyler sighed dramatically, but made no move to return to the safety zone. Instead, he knelt beside the tripod, adjusting its position. “Just let me set this up for one shot, then I’ll come back.”
Rue’s patience had evaporated. “No. Now.”
But Tyler ignored her, fussing with the focus ring on his camera to capture the untouched ice in all its glory. He ducked behind the lens, the soft click of the shutter breaking the Antarctic silence as he snapped the first shot.
For a moment, everything seemed fine…
The ice groaned—a beast waking from a long slumber—before splintering in a chorus of crackles and pops. There was really no other sound like it on earth, and it made her blood run cold.
“Tyler!”
The ice gave way.
One moment, he was standing there with his camera; the next, he was gone, his surprised yelp cut short as he dropped into the sudden darkness below.
Rue lunged forward, dropping to her stomach at the edge of the newly formed hole, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Tyler!” she shouted into the narrow crevasse. “Can you hear me?”
A pained groan echoed up from the darkness. “I’m—I’m okay,” came his shaky voice. “I think. I can’t—my leg is wedged.”
Rue heard the others rushing toward her and held up a warning hand without looking back. “Stay there! The ice is compromised. Noah, stop the drill. Elliot, I need rope and a harness.”
“You’re not climbing down there,” he said, but she ignored him and fumbled her headlamp out of her pocket.
“Mia, have the first aid kit ready. I don’t know what shape he’ll be in when we pull him up.”
She inched forward carefully, distributing her weight on the fractured surface. A beam of light cut through the eerie blue darkness as she aimed her headlamp into the crevasse. Tyler was about fifteen feet down, wedged awkwardly between narrowing ice walls. The tripod had landed nearby, its legs bent and broken, and the camera’s lens had cracked. Tyler’s face was ghostly pale in the harsh light, his eyes wide with shock.
“Don’t move,” she instructed, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “You’re okay, but the more you struggle, the more likely you’ll slip deeper.”
“I don’t think I could move if I wanted to.” He squinted up at her, naked fear on his face. He wasn’t the cocky, reckless man-boy anymore, but a kid who just realized he was in serious danger.
Elliot appeared on his stomach at her side. She was about to chew him out for taking the risk, but then saw the climbing harness he wore. He passed her another.
“I’ve anchored into the stable ice,” he said quietly, laying out the rescue equipment. “Put the harness on.”
Noah threw them a rope. “How stable is he?”
“Wedged between narrowing walls about fifteen feet down,” Rue reported. “Conscious and responsive, but his leg is trapped. We’ll need to lower someone.”
“I’ll go,” Elliot said immediately.
