THE COLD.
THE COLD IS THE SECOND SHORT STORY I EVER WROTE, AND THE FIRST PIECE OF WRITING TO EVER WIN A PRIZE, COMING SECOND IN THE GEELONG WRITERS COMPETITION, 2025.
The storm came from nowhere. We’d known for a long time how vicious these Antarctic winds could be, but this one was different. Unprecedented, given it was midsummer, and unseasonably vicious. We’d had no time to prepare and even less to react, and before we knew it, the situation had spiraled beyond any hope of control.
“I don’t know if there’s any other way to say this… We’re in serious trouble.” Kyra said, teeth chattering. Despite the growing cold, the visible parts of her face were covered in a sheen of sweat.
“How serious?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. We’d both been out here long enough to know when the writing was on the wall.
“Primary generator is out. Secondary is out. And we’ve been breached.”
Her words sent another shiver right through me. As if I wasn’t cold enough already.
“Where?”
“You know the east-facing door we’ve always had trouble with? Bolts finally gave way. No chance we’ll get it shut in these winds. Anemometers are clocking at over two hundred and fifty kilometers an hour.”
With speeds like that, even Superman would struggle to close it. I knew better than to expend energy and body heat on trying.
“Damn this old place. How much power do we have?”
“Well with the door open, we’re going to burn through it a lot faster. Might be less than an hour.” Her face was expressionless.
“Oh god.”
She nodded. Neither of us needed to put words to the truth – Willison Base was going to be our tomb.
Since the international summit a year ago, they’d “strategically withdrawn” all assets from the southern continent. Our base was the last one left, and Kyra and I were the last two here. Six months ago, a breach like this would have been a minor inconvenience. Now, stripped of all resources and personnel, it was a death sentence.
“One faulty door is all it took.” she said.
I’d contemplated my mortality before, of course – one can’t work in a place like this without having a few close calls – but never had I stared certain death in the face like this. Still, I felt surprisingly calm. For now.
“Well, we can both say we made it to the bitter end.” I laughed ruefully.
“Yeah. I don’t suppose they’ll make one last trip for us now–” Her voice broke with her final word.
I reached out a gloved hand, gesturing deeper into the facility. Kyra took a breath, gathering herself, and led me to the mess, a now-spartan room furnished with a few meager cushions and blankets we’d dug out from nearby packs. We shut the doors behind us, of course, but they weren’t nearly as insulated as the external ones. The cold would find a way through eventually. Already, with the heaters blasting, it was a chilly five degrees.
“Can’t believe it, not a single pyramid tent in the whole place. Just my luck.” She shook her head disdainfully.
“They got rid of them ages ago. A bright idea to stop us leaving the house.” I replied.
“Yeah. Someone is going to get so sued for this.”
Kyra looked me up and down. “Well, if we’re going to die together, no point doing it as strangers. Funny how we can work together so long, and I know so little about you.” She sounded relaxed, amused even, but I saw the panic in her eyes.
“My middle name is Steve, but I never really liked it. I love football, but maybe only because I’m a masochist. My favourite colour is pur–”
“Shut up Alex, I’m not asking for your dating profile.”
“What do you want from me?” I snapped. Maybe I wasn’t as calm as I’d thought.
She recoiled, and guilt washed over me. She might be the last person I’d ever speak to, and I was being rude?
“Ugh, I’m sorry Kyra. It’s the engineer in me, always missing cues. Why don’t you tell me what brought you out here in the first place?”
She lifted her eyes once more. They held a curious grey-blue tint that seemed to change whenever she moved. Her brown-black fringe stuck to her forehead haphazardly, but I liked it.
Since I was small, I always wanted to go to Antarctica.” She said bitterly, “I guess I was attracted to its remoteness. So pure, but so unforgiving. So … untamed. What an idiot.”
“It’s a beautiful place, when it’s not trying to kill you.”
“That’s the thing, though. Even now, I don’t feel like it is trying to kill us. More that it … doesn’t care.”
“Hmm.” Despite my heavy-duty protective gear, my fingertips tingled. I could’ve sworn it was getting colder already.
“I don’t want to talk about this place anymore. Especially if we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives here. Tell me about something warm, like summer. Tell me about your favourite summer?”
The words tumbled out of me, and I found myself rambling about school friends, sunburn, swimming pools and scratched feet. I made at least half of it up, and I think she knew this, but she listened intently all the way.
“Your turn.” I said at last, and her eyes flickered with surprise.
“How could I follow up such a tale of excitement, betrayal, and intrigue? I spent all my time inside reading. And drawing … I liked to make up animals.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping my head tilt came across as interested, and not patronising.
She blushed. “It’s embarrassing!”
“I… don’t think I’ll be telling anyone.”
I winced; that was a little too morbid.
It seemed Kyra was of quite dry wit though, and she laughed, a little heartier than before.
“You’re right. On my deathbed and I’m worried about what you think of me.” She shook her head. “Okay, well, still… Don’t laugh at me. What I would do is, I’d make these books, where I’d draw something, like a creature. Usually, some strange hybrid of lizards and fish, all the cool stuff, you know?”
I smiled, genuinely. “That isn’t so strange.”
“I’m not finished yet. I also wrote their bios, where they lived. I mapped out an entire fake ecosystem in South America once.”
My smile broadened. “Honestly, I love that! It’s so … I don’t want to say “cute”. It’s creative and...” I stumbled for the right word. “Wholesome”
She blushed further, and looked at her feet. “That’s still not everything. I actually wrote out all their taxonomies, you know, like the charts? Kingdom phylum class … all the rest.” For a few seconds, the room felt a little warmer, the glow from the light above a little yellower.
“How long do you think it’s been?” I asked.
“I … Do you think it’s good that we know?”
I thought for a moment, and she spoke again. “I never liked checking my clock at night, in case it was nearly time to wake up. Maybe this can be a bit like that.”
I nodded, understanding her logic: it was bad enough knowing we were going to die – did we need to know exactly when? I might have liked to, but I preferred the option that made Kyra more comfortable.
“Let’s play a game?” she said, and I nodded again.
“Imagine they rescue us. Some sleek, jet-black military-grade plane flies through the storm and plucks us out, last second. Have I lost you yet?”
“Yeah, a little, but keep going.”
“Okay, well let’s say they pick us up, we’re flying away. Into our cabin walks a chef, full whites, the big hat, everything. What are you getting him to make you?”
I stared at her for a moment, struggling to visualise any other place but here. “Well, that sure is a scenario. Let me think … Okay, I got it. An ice cream.”
“Ha ha. Beat cancer and light up another cigarette, hey? Come on, what would you really have?” Ocean eyes, made-up ecosystems, and a delightful sense of irony… How had I not spent more time with this woman before?
“Well, I thought that was pretty funny. Okay, right now, anything in the world?”
She nodded encouragingly, rubbing her hands together.
“Okay,” I said. “I would have a lasagna, garlic bread, and salad. But not a real salad, with all the dressings and stuff. Just lettuce, tomato, cheese. Maybe some salt and pepper.” My mouth watered a little at the thought.
“That sounds so warm. I think I’d have chicken and potatoes. My mum didn’t really know how to make mash, it was always kinda lumpy, but I got so used to it I can’t have it any other way now. The chicken has to be crumbed too, with flour and water, no egg. I always felt weird eating eggs.”
I laughed. “Like, philosophically?”
“Yeah, like, I know it’s all hypocritical… but I didn’t like the idea of eating the unborn.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
“See what I mean?”
The lights flickered, and fear once more washed over her face. Impulsively, I moved across to sit beside her and linked her arm in mine.
“Is this okay?” I murmured awkwardly. She nodded and gave my forearm a squeeze.
“What were you always most afraid of?” she said in a small voice.
“Should’ve been this.” I coughed, and felt her grip tighten. “I never much liked the idea of losing at board games though.”
This time, the joke didn’t land.
“I was always scared that the world would end.”
“Yeah… Is this any different?”
“Kind of. It’s still nice to know the rest might live on, right? Like, our families.”
The breath caught in my chest. My older brother was having his first child later this year, and my little sister had just announced a date for her wedding.
Maybe they’ll put a spare chair out for me.
Kyra had gone quiet too, probably thinking about her own kin, but I didn’t have the heart to talk about it.
“Was there a certain kind of apocalypse you feared?” I asked instead.
“I always imagined a nuclear winter, huddled in the dark. Everywhere becoming cold and white and lifeless. A little like this, I guess. No more people, no more… creatures.” Kyra shivered. “But there was always something I could do. You know, being the main character and all, you always find a way…” She began to cry: deep, wretched sobs that caught in her throat. Seeing her like this made me feel so helpless.
“We can still be the main characters,” I said, but the tears were flowing for me now too. “It might just have to be one of those sad stories.”
I held her gently for a time, but her panic only seemed to grow.
“The time still passes,” she gasped between sobs. “No matter what we do, the time still passes. It’s coming closer, the end, and there’s nothing we can do; every second, it just– it’s getting closer.”
She was right, and there was nothing I could say. I wrapped both my arms around her, and we cried together. All of this was so unfair… so avoidable. If a million tiny things happened differently, we’d be sitting, cozy and dry, halfway home.
But they hadn’t, and here we were.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe there’s something… after,” I said.
She laughed and raised her head again, revealing pale, tear-stained cheeks and blue lips. “The toasty pits of hell don’t sound so bad right now. But I never really got the whole faith thing.
“I can’t say I did either,” I admitted. “But if we’re going to die anyway, would it change anything to be hopeful?”
“It might make the last few moments easier. But if there is a hell, promise me something?”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t say ‘I told you so’. I’ll have enough problems.”
We laughed again, and in that moment, I think I fell in love. I stroked the tears from her face, and we curled up on the floor, facing one another. I pressed both gloved hands against her cheeks, that they might preserve some warmth. Kyra gazed up at me and did the same, pressing our foreheads together. For a blissful moment, I lost myself in her hopeful smile, and all coldness was banished from my body.
Then the lights went out.
Maybe it was the anonymity of the dark, but the last of my composure deserted me.
“You’re right,” I whimpered, “It’s coming.”
“Shhhh. It’s all going to be okay, in this life or the next.” Her voice was shaky, but warm; a panacea to my growing panic. A couple of dim emergency lights flashed, keeping us from being engulfed in true black, and I stared desperately into her grey eyes.
Now that everything was dark, the battering winds seemed even louder. I imagined the storm as a vicious presence surging through the facility, searching for us. I shivered and shook, but Kyra held me firmly.
“… So cold…” I stuttered, and she nodded, the movement scratching against the freezing skin on my forehead.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Kyra whispered again, and I nodded through my tears.
Then she breathed her final words, “You know, Alex? I think we might have been best of friends, in another life. Maybe more.”
Kyra closed her eyes, pouring all her strength into holding me. The blustering gale outside continued its assault, rocking the building to its foundations. She pulled me even closer, her meager warmth a refuge against the inevitable cold. Despite the layers of clothing, I could have sworn that I felt her heartbeat flutter and fade against my chest. If I just held her a little tighter, maybe I could warm her enough to keep going, to stay with me for a little longer. I didn’t want her to go. I didn’t want to be alone. I wrapped my arms and legs around her and squeezed until I couldn’t feel anything anymore.
*****
My body begins to warm. I see a gold-tinged future, where we sit side by side on the couch, eating ice cream and laughing at my dreadful football team as they snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, again. Kyra nudges me; she’s got something to show me. I follow her into the study, where an array of sketches are strewn across a great oaken desk. I marvel at her work and listen to her describe a vast and imaginative world, the setting for her upcoming novel. It’s going to be brilliant; I just know it. It’s late afternoon, and the last of the sun’s rays dance across her face.
“Come on, Alex, we’ve got things to do!” She laughs, taking my hand.
I smile and close my eyes one last time.
© J.S.Harman.
Edited by Maelstrom and Moonshadow.
All rights reserved to the original author and publisher, J.S.Harman.
All writing featured is original content created without the use of generative AI or language learning models. This author expressly prohibits this publication to be used in any way, shape or form to train artificial intelligence technologies or language learning models.
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