Ice Storm by David Meyer

Author:David Meyer [Meyer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Thriller, Adventure
ISBN: 9780615848129
Google: ur74oAEACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 18244664
Publisher: Guerrilla Explorer Publishing
Published: 2013-07-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 49

Anxiously, I thrust my hands into the snow bank. My gloves touched nothing but powder. I tried to frown but my face was too cold to move.

I stood up again. Stared at the whiteout. My eyes picked out another dark spot about twenty feet away. My lips started to shudder as I hiked toward it.

The wind picked up a notch. Blowing snow struck the ground repeatedly, causing more powder to rise into the air. It whirled around in great circles, striking me from all sides.

What time was it anyway? How long had I been searching for Ayers? Minutes? Hours?

I figured the others were out there with me, blanketing the vast tundra. But I couldn't see them, hear them, or smell them. For all I knew, they'd given up hours ago. Or maybe I'd strayed too far. Maybe they were searching for me now.

A fleeting image of Beverly's face crossed my mind. I was still determined to find her as soon as possible. But I had no reason to think she was in immediate danger. On the other hand, the odds of finding Ayers still alive were falling by the second.

I twisted around. I couldn't see Kirby. But I was reasonably sure I could get myself back to it.

I reached the snow bank and started to search it. I didn't know much about Ayers. I hadn't even heard his voice. Hell, I couldn't even be sure he had a voice. Still, I found myself wondering about him, his life. What would happen if we didn't find him? Would anyone remember him? Would they mourn him? How long would those memories last? Months? Years?

Practically everyone who'd ever lived had already been forgotten. It was a cold, but undeniable truth. There were just too many people to remember, too few memory slots available.

Most individuals succumbed to time, some quicker than others. Within a single generation, the vast majority of people completely vanished from the public consciousness. A few high-profile individuals—politicians, actresses, athletes, people like that—lasted a little longer. But almost all of them faded within a few decades. Only a precious few—the religious icons, the trendsetters, the inventors, the explorers, the conquerors—managed to live on in the collective memory.

My legs began to quiver. I cursed myself for walking so far. I should've stayed closer to Kirby, to the others.

I craned my neck. I saw another dark blotch among the vast expanse of ice and snow. As I hiked toward it, I thought more about Ayers, about how others would remember him. But deep down, I knew I was really thinking about myself.

I had no legacy, no lasting achievements to pass onto future generations. Almost all of my discoveries were locked up in private hands. The others were little known outside of treasure hunting circles. In other words, I was doomed to be forgotten.

But I wanted to be remembered. I needed to be remembered. I wasn't so foolish as to think Cy Reed would ever be a household name. But the Amber Room was one of the greatest lost treasures of all time.

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