Polar Meltdown (5 page)

“Surely it can't be humans,” said Ben, trying to sound braver than he felt.

He tapped a key on his BUG to identify the sound. When the result flashed up on the screen he burst out laughing with relief.

“Come back,” he called to his sister. “It's just a pod of walruses. It was their shapes you could see – they're on the ice floe.”

The fog swirled and cleared a little, and in the small shaft of sunlight they could see the walruses lying on the edge of the ice. Their pinky-grey bodies were covered in short hair and their snouts bristled with stiff whiskers. Each one had a pair of gleaming tusks, pointing downwards and looking very sharp.

With a shamefaced grin, Zoe brought her kayak alongside his again. “Well, they looked scary back there,” she insisted.

“We don't want to land amongst them,” said Ben. “I know they don't usually attack humans, but they're huge.”

“And those tusks look vicious,” agreed Zoe. “I vote we give them a wide berth.”

One of the walruses was watching them with its little eyes, turning its head to follow their movements. It raised its snout to the air, whiskers twitching. Suddenly it gave a harsh, bellowing cry. The other animals took it up and they began to shuffle towards the sea.

“They've caught our scent and they're scared,” said Ben, plunging his paddle into the water. “We should have used the scent dispersers on our BUGs, but it's too late now. Get away as fast as you can. Walruses always take to the sea when they're frightened.”

Just as he spoke, the walruses plunged into the icy ocean with tremendous splashes. Waves of water surged towards the kayaks. Ben and Zoe rowed madly back into the fog, but more animals were diving into the sea. Shiny heads were popping up all over the place, giving terrified cries as they swam away.

Zoe let out a yelp of fright as the wash of water tipped her sideways. Ben twisted in his seat to try and spot his sister through the wall of fog. But Zoe was nowhere to be seen.

CHAPTER
SIX

“Zoe!” Ben's voice sounded muffled in the fog. “Zoe, where are you?”

He listened. For a moment all he could hear was the crunch and grind of floating ice bumping into the kayak. His heart raced. He knew that if Zoe had capsized she couldn't survive long in the freezing Arctic water.

He began to paddle around, searching the choppy waves. Nothing. Hands shaking with fear, he steered the kayak through the ice, looking to right and left. He called again. This time he could hear the rising panic in his own voice. Vital minutes were passing.

Then at last he heard a call, so faint at first that he thought he was imagining what he wanted to hear. No, there it was again. He propelled the kayak quickly towards the sound through the swirling fog.

“Ben!” Now he could see the outline of a figure on the edge of the ice floe. It was waving frantically.

He swiftly brought his kayak up to the bank of ice. Zoe was kneeling, her hand stretched towards him to help him climb out.

“I thought you'd capsized!” panted Ben, as he pulled his lightweight craft out of the water and put it next to his sister's.

“I nearly did!” Zoe replied. “I was so scared. The walruses made such rough waves! Remember that capsize session we did with Erika in the canoes?”

Ben nodded. “You were really good at it.”

“Just as well,” said Zoe. “Every time I felt myself keeling over I just about managed to slap the water with the paddle and twist myself up. As soon as the walruses had gone I got myself on to the ice. I never want to do that again.”

Ben could hear a tremble in her voice. “Well, we're both OK,” he said, putting his arm round her shoulders. “But we must be more careful.”

“Too right,” said Zoe, vehemently. “Let's get away from here.”

“Mustn't forget to fit our trackers to the kayaks first,” said Ben. “Then we'll be able to locate them wherever we are.”

He detached a small gadget from his BUG and clipped it firmly on to the kayak. Zoe did the same with hers. They then turned them upside down and covered them with snow.

“We don't want anyone passing to see empty kayaks and try to rescue us,” said Zoe.

Ben checked the screen of his BUG. An orange light pulsed. “Tracker's working.”

He tapped some more keys. “I've put in the coordinates I remembered from the map Lukie showed us,” he told Zoe. He studied the map on his screen and pointed across the snow. “It's this way. Northward ho!”

“And now – time for the RATs,” declared Zoe. The two children pulled their slim snowboards out of the side pockets of their backpacks and put them down on the snow.

They looked out towards their destination. At their feet the ice floe was covered in a smooth, flat layer of snow, but further on, the ice had been sculpted into strange shapes by the wind. Some formations made gentle mounds; others looked like sheer jagged rocks, their ledges thick with overhanging snow.

The children pressed their heels on to the starting buttons and the RATs' motors whizzed into life. Off they went, weaving two parallel tracks in the untrodden snow. Ben surged ahead.

“Watch this!” he yelled back to his sister. He steered the RAT towards a hump in the ground and took off, balancing expertly in the air with outstretched arms.

“Olympic jump!” he boasted, as he landed several metres further on.

A look of grim determination on her face, Zoe copied him. She glanced back at the two landing marks in the snow and grinned. Her jump was longer.

“You only got the silver medal,” she called. “I got the gold!”

She put on a burst of speed and zoomed after her brother. Ben slowed a little, then, checking she was close behind, stamped down with his heel on the back of his RAT. The end dug into the snow and a powdery white spray flew up behind it – all over Zoe.

Ben burst out laughing and zoomed away, Zoe on his tail. But suddenly he brought his RAT to a halt. Zoe just managed to avoid colliding with him.

“A joke's a joke,” she said crossly, “but I nearly ran into you then.”

“Sorry,” said Ben. “But check out that sky ahead.”

Zoe stared at the horizon. Grey clouds were swirling round in the distance. They were getting closer and the wind was whipping the snow around their feet.

“That's bad,” Zoe said simply. “Looks like a snowstorm. Remember the old man at the centre said there was one coming. That's going to delay us getting to the cubs.”

The low sun was now completely blotted out by the dark, ominous clouds. Flakes of snow were falling fast. They were being driven straight into their faces by the wind. Ben and Zoe couldn't keep their balance on the RATs and had to walk instead.

“I can't see a thing,” yelled Zoe, as they trudged along. “And it's getting much colder. I'm not sure how much further I can go.”

“This is hopeless,” said Ben. “Let's get the tent up. We'd be better sitting out the storm than getting lost – or worse.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out the compactly folded tent. Together they tried to open it up, but the buffeting wind kept pulling at it, threatening to pull it from their grasp. The thin material was slipping through their gloved hands like a wet fish.

“Don't let go!” yelled Ben.

But it was too late. There was a vicious blast of wind and the tent was torn out of their hands. It whipped away until it was a tiny dot on the horizon.