For forty-five excruciating minutes, the glacier echoed with the frantic, rhythmic sounds of pickaxes and ice saws. Sam’s arms burned with exhaustion, his face dripping with sweat despite the sub-zero air. Above him, Elena hauled on the manual winch cable, trying to create enough tension to pull the heavy, unseen mass free from its icy cradle before the storm completely blinded them.
"Keep chipping, Sam! The voice is fading!" Elena shouted, her knuckles white around the winch handle. Below, the raspy, unknown broadcast was degrading into a faint, desperate whisper. Slowly, the vocal sounds cut out completely, leaving only a dead, terrifying silence behind.
Fearing the occupant had just gone unconscious from lack of oxygen, Sam hacked at the surrounding ice with renewed fury. He cleared away thick chunks of frost from the upper rim of the object, completely focused on freeing the heavy metallic frame before whoever was trapped inside suffocated in the freezing gloom.