Stranded by Bracken MacLeod Page A

so, he stepped right in it. When the company had assigned him to Brewster’s crew, he’d thought it was a cruel joke. It wasn’t. The company wasn’t interested in their personal history, if anyone making the decisions even knew about it. He was a cog in the machine, and if he couldn’t work with the bigger gears, he was easily replaceable.
    The FRC reached the top and disappeared into the gap in the ship where it lived. The winch silenced and Kevin and Noah stood in near silence waiting for the sound of it powering up again, returning to bring them up. The wind whispered in the spaces around Noah’s neoprene hood.
    Kevin kept looking up, waiting for the boat. Noah knew better than to hold his breath.

 
    12
    Doing his best to track the time by watching the path of the pale sun approaching the horizon, Noah guessed it was over an hour before the FRC returned to retrieve the two men. Maybe longer. Without a watch, he couldn’t tell for certain. It had been time enough for the warmth of work to have long worn off, leaving both men shivering and numb. What he was certain of was if they didn’t come back for the two of them soon, he and Kevin would have fewer fingers and toes to keep track of the hours. Finally, the rumble of the engine sounded in the preternatural quiet.
    As the craft descended, he saw Third Officer Holden at the controls. Jack stood behind him holding two cups of coffee. Noah assumed the delay in their retrieval was more a matter of finding someone willing to come get them rather than pouring the drinks. Jack had ditched his survival suit for his regular cold weather gear and danced from foot to foot to keep warm while trying not to spill the coffee. Noah thought about the amount of sweat that had accumulated in his own Gumby suit and figured if he took it off without also changing the clothes underneath he’d be suffering, too. Wind attacked the gaps in deck clothes under normal circumstances. Being wet with perspiration only made things worse.
    As the FRC reached the surface, Jack set the drinks on the side of the vessel and leaned out to help the men scramble aboard. Noah climbed in, taking one of the coffees with both hands. He’d drop it if he tried to grip the cup with only one. “Much obliged,” he said.
    Jack cocked his head and smiled wanly. “We’re all in the same boat, right?” Noah almost laughed.
    His thick rubber gloves made it hard to hold the drink, but he didn’t dare take them off until he was inside. However bad working in the cold had been, standing still in it was worse. An hour had felt like an eternity with the biting wind kicking up snow into his face while his muscles cooled and stiffened. Kevin had started out telling stories of his last time in the port at Juneau, but after only a few minutes he was shivering and his voice trembled. He’d rushed to the end of his tale—the guy begrudgingly paid the bar bet after Kevin showed him the rooster hanging from a noose tattooed on his calf—and zipped his suit up to his eyes.
    â€œI was starting to worry,” Kevin said, pulling the zipper down to take a drink.
    â€œYou had nothing to worry about, Lawless,” Holden said. “Cabot, on the other hand…” Holden finished his thought with a half smile and a jerk of the handle that sent the rescue craft lurching upward. Noah staggered a step to get his balance, reaching out with a half-numb hand for a guyline. Steady, he took a noisy slurp of his drink and decided he’d rather interpret the third officer’s statement as a joke as well. Holden had come down to get him, after all. Still, if Kevin hadn’t bailed out of the first ride, there was no telling how long Noah might have had to wait below.
    Noah nodded. He turned to Holden. “You and Martin were working on communications, right? Make any progress?”
    Holden’s smile disappeared and he shook his head. “Nevins can