sickness for anyone. I'll rip that apron right off her if I have to.
From behind Victoria, Glen spotted an easier option.
Slipper quiet, he reached under Victoria's arm and thrust his hand into her apron pocket.
I've got something!
Victoria screamed, jerking away.
Glen lost his grip, but not before he'd turned Victoria's pocket inside-out.
A white sunhat tumbled to the floor.
Nothing more.
But I felt something hard , thought Glen.
Megan kicked the hat.
Victoria's secrets tumbled from the hat and scattered across the floor.
'Gardening shears,' pointed Alex.
'And gloves,' said Megan angrily. 'You had gloves this whole time!'
Chrissie turned the hat inside-out. Empty now, she threw it at Victoria's feet. 'I knew you were lying.'
Victoria spun on Glen. 'How dare you!’
Glen picked up Victoria’s hat. He dangled the hat before her face. 'How dare I?'
Victoria snatched her hat.
Megan stepped between them, holding the gardening gloves. 'I almost got frostbite climbing that ice, Victoria. My fingers were so numb I dropped the phone. Then you made me move Ericsson. A dead body! I asked you for something to cover my hands. You called me disgusting. Disgusting! You’re the disgusting one!’
'Why were you hiding these?' asked Carl.
Victoria exploded in rage.
'To save your lives! The ice is trying to kill us. It killed Ericsson and then dropped a bomb on us. Now it's poisoning us with radiation. Digging into the ice is suicide! I'm trying to protect us!'
Megan shook her head.
'We don't have a choice now. We have to bury that lock before it kills us. We have to dig to live.'
Dig to live , thought Glen. What a motto.
#
Glen stabbed the ice with the shears.
They bounced right off.
Useless.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Megan.
‘They’re not designed for stabbing,’ explained Glen. ‘The handles are too awkward to grip.’
Carl hadn’t had any luck either.
'Lend me your belt,' said Carl quickly. ‘I have an idea.’
Glen handed Carl the shears and his robe’s belt.
Carl wrapped up the shears, ensuring the soft fabric covered the nut.
'I had tools the last time I did this.'
He lifted the shears as though he planned to play them like a flute.
'Holy crap! thought Glen. He's trying to unscrew the nut with his teeth!
'Oh, no, Carl,' cried Megan. 'He's using his teeth! Don't, Carl!'
Carl paused, but didn't lower the shears. 'We're dying right now, Megan. Every moment we're getting more irradiated.'
'Let him do it,' said Chrissie firmly. 'We don't have time.'
Megan covered her mouth and turned away, shivering.
Carl positioned the nut between his teeth.
Glen grimaced as Carl began applying steady pressure. Tendons lifted under the skin on Carl’s neck.
He bit down hard.
Then harder.
Then he started turning.
Or rather, he tried.
Please turn, please turn, please turn ....
Nothing happened, except the tendons on Carl's neck tried to break through his skin.
Carl's face turned bright red. His hands shook. His head twisted sideway until —
Crrrruuuunch!
The shears jolted ninety degrees.
The noise sounded wrong. It sounded organic, not metallic.
What has he done to himself?
Carl lowered the shears. He checked his teeth. His fingers came away bloody. Glen saw shards of broken teeth in his palm.
'He's broken his teeth!' exclaimed Alex.
The broken teeth cut his gums , thought Glen. Or he's shattered his teeth below the gum line.
Either way, Carl had caused himself some serious dental damage.
Carl looked vacantly at the broken teeth in his palm. He put them into his UPS shirt pocket.
'Are you all right?' asked Glen.
Carl unwrapped and then carefully rewrapped the gardening tool with Glen's belt.
'He's trying again,' declared Alex.
'No, Carl,' begged Megan. 'Don't be ridiculous. You're going to strip all the teeth from your mouth.'
Carl ignored everyone. He positioned the tool into the other side of his mouth.
He started the process again.
'Wait!' yelled Glen.
I can’t
From behind Victoria, Glen spotted an easier option.
Slipper quiet, he reached under Victoria's arm and thrust his hand into her apron pocket.
I've got something!
Victoria screamed, jerking away.
Glen lost his grip, but not before he'd turned Victoria's pocket inside-out.
A white sunhat tumbled to the floor.
Nothing more.
But I felt something hard , thought Glen.
Megan kicked the hat.
Victoria's secrets tumbled from the hat and scattered across the floor.
'Gardening shears,' pointed Alex.
'And gloves,' said Megan angrily. 'You had gloves this whole time!'
Chrissie turned the hat inside-out. Empty now, she threw it at Victoria's feet. 'I knew you were lying.'
Victoria spun on Glen. 'How dare you!’
Glen picked up Victoria’s hat. He dangled the hat before her face. 'How dare I?'
Victoria snatched her hat.
Megan stepped between them, holding the gardening gloves. 'I almost got frostbite climbing that ice, Victoria. My fingers were so numb I dropped the phone. Then you made me move Ericsson. A dead body! I asked you for something to cover my hands. You called me disgusting. Disgusting! You’re the disgusting one!’
'Why were you hiding these?' asked Carl.
Victoria exploded in rage.
'To save your lives! The ice is trying to kill us. It killed Ericsson and then dropped a bomb on us. Now it's poisoning us with radiation. Digging into the ice is suicide! I'm trying to protect us!'
Megan shook her head.
'We don't have a choice now. We have to bury that lock before it kills us. We have to dig to live.'
Dig to live , thought Glen. What a motto.
#
Glen stabbed the ice with the shears.
They bounced right off.
Useless.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Megan.
‘They’re not designed for stabbing,’ explained Glen. ‘The handles are too awkward to grip.’
Carl hadn’t had any luck either.
'Lend me your belt,' said Carl quickly. ‘I have an idea.’
Glen handed Carl the shears and his robe’s belt.
Carl wrapped up the shears, ensuring the soft fabric covered the nut.
'I had tools the last time I did this.'
He lifted the shears as though he planned to play them like a flute.
'Holy crap! thought Glen. He's trying to unscrew the nut with his teeth!
'Oh, no, Carl,' cried Megan. 'He's using his teeth! Don't, Carl!'
Carl paused, but didn't lower the shears. 'We're dying right now, Megan. Every moment we're getting more irradiated.'
'Let him do it,' said Chrissie firmly. 'We don't have time.'
Megan covered her mouth and turned away, shivering.
Carl positioned the nut between his teeth.
Glen grimaced as Carl began applying steady pressure. Tendons lifted under the skin on Carl’s neck.
He bit down hard.
Then harder.
Then he started turning.
Or rather, he tried.
Please turn, please turn, please turn ....
Nothing happened, except the tendons on Carl's neck tried to break through his skin.
Carl's face turned bright red. His hands shook. His head twisted sideway until —
Crrrruuuunch!
The shears jolted ninety degrees.
The noise sounded wrong. It sounded organic, not metallic.
What has he done to himself?
Carl lowered the shears. He checked his teeth. His fingers came away bloody. Glen saw shards of broken teeth in his palm.
'He's broken his teeth!' exclaimed Alex.
The broken teeth cut his gums , thought Glen. Or he's shattered his teeth below the gum line.
Either way, Carl had caused himself some serious dental damage.
Carl looked vacantly at the broken teeth in his palm. He put them into his UPS shirt pocket.
'Are you all right?' asked Glen.
Carl unwrapped and then carefully rewrapped the gardening tool with Glen's belt.
'He's trying again,' declared Alex.
'No, Carl,' begged Megan. 'Don't be ridiculous. You're going to strip all the teeth from your mouth.'
Carl ignored everyone. He positioned the tool into the other side of his mouth.
He started the process again.
'Wait!' yelled Glen.
I can’t
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