Triple Threat - James Patterson Page 0,31

an eyebrow. We start to kiss. Before long, things are heating up faster than the polar bear meat cooking behind me.

Until Chloe suddenly stops. She pulls away. “Wait. Oz, we can’t.”

I sigh, disappointed. But she’s right. Stranded deep inside the Arctic Circle, there’s not exactly a corner drugstore we can run to for some condoms or the Pill.

I simply nod and hug her. Tightly.

This isn’t a world that either of us would risk bringing new life into.

Chapter 3

“Yuck! Daddy, this is gross!”

Eli has just taken his first bite of my latest culinary creation: oatmeal mixed with chunks of braised polar bear. He spits it back out into his bowl.

Chloe folds her arms. “Eli, where are your manners?”

How adorably French of her, I think. The world is falling apart and my wife is still concerned about etiquette.

“Oh, go easy on him,” I say. “I know it’s not exactly the breakfast of champions. But you do have to eat it, buddy. Sorry. We all do. Need the protein.”

“No way,” Eli says, shaking his head. He proceeds to shovel only the mushy oatmeal into his mouth, avoiding the meat. He uses his fingers, not his spoon.

I don’t have the energy to put up a fight, and neither does Chloe. We consume the rest of our meal in silence. All we can hear is the eerie, howling wind outside, whipping against our weather station’s aluminum walls. It sounds like something right out of a horror movie.

At least it’s not an animal, trying to claw its way inside. It might be soon.

Chloe and I had come to the same chilling conclusion the night before. Because I lost so much blood out there on the ice, leaving a trail leading right to our front door, it’s only a matter of time before other creatures pick up the scent and come after us. Like a charging herd of enraged musk oxen. Or a throng of feral foxes. Another polar bear, or an entire pack of them.

“All right, who’s ready for story time?” Chloe asks, starting to clear our plates.

“Me, me!” Eli shouts, his face lighting up bright.

“Okay, then. Go wash your hands and get ready. I’ll be in in a minute.”

With a grin practically half the size of his face, Eli disappears into the other room.

When we first moved into the weather station, it was all so rushed and chaotic. Our main focus was making sure we had enough canned food and warm clothing. Toys, games, and books for Eli were the last things on our mind. Thankfully, we discovered the previous inhabitants were voracious readers. They’d left behind a giant library—everything from Charles Dickens to Philip K. Dick, though not exactly young children’s literature. Still, Chloe and I have been reading selections to Eli every single day since. Most of the stuff is way over his head, but he loves it.

“Anything new in the world we left behind?” Chloe asks me, rinsing our plates.

She sees I’ve started skimming the New York Times homepage on my laptop. More than half the lead headlines are about the ongoing animal crisis, which shows no signs of slowing down. In fact, it’s only getting worse.

I summarize some stories.

“Let’s see. Researchers in Cameroon were testing a promising animal pheromone repellent spray when they were mauled by a horde of rhinos. President Hardinson just signed a controversial executive order to set controlled fires in federal parks to destroy thousands of acres of breeding grounds. And the Kremlin’s denying it, but apparently a school of blue whales just sunk a Russian nuclear submarine in—”

“Enough!” Chloe snaps. She sighs deeply. She runs her hands through her auburn hair. I feel bad for adding to her stress, but she asked.

My laptop pings with a notification—a new email. But not just any message—this has been sent via a classified U.S. government server.

Its subject line reads: “Urgent Request.”

I immediately slam my laptop shut.

“Now don’t be ridiculous,” Chloe says. She’d read the screen over my shoulder. “Open it, Oz. It must be important!”

“As far as I’m concerned,” I say, “there are only two things in this crazy world that are important—and they’re both inside this weather station with me. I’m done helping the feds, thank you very much. Remember what happened last time? How royally they screwed everything up with their so-called solutions? The idiotic bombing raids? The bungled electricity ban?”

Chloe puts her hands on her hips. Of course she remembers. We lived through every minute of that nightmare together.

But then she snatches my computer away.

“Fine. If you’re