Arctic Rising: A Constable Maratse Stand Alone novella (Guerrilla Greenland Book 3) by Christoffer Petersen (good ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“It matters because it’s working.” Kamiila curled her fists into her short hair, her eyes wide as she stared at Maratse. “It’s like you choose not to understand. And I just don’t get it.” She let go of her hair and dropped her arms to her sides.

“They shot at her,” Maratse said. “Because of me.”

“Aap, because of you, of what you’re saying. They don’t like it. They think you’re a threat, and that means it’s working. Even the good old days crap. It’s working.” Kamiila sat down beside Maratse. “I didn’t think it was enough. I was wrong.” She took Maratse’s hand, traced the tiny scars and scratches from fishhooks and needle sharp puppy milk teeth on his fingers. “You’re getting to them. People are listening.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We do know that.” Kamiila pointed at Innuina. “She’s listening. Kilaasi’s listening. Then there’s Inniki, late at night. They’re listening to her, too. And now these men…”

“Walcott,” Maratse said.

“And his goons…” Kamiila laughed. “Aap, I said goons.”

“I don’t know what they are.”

“Because you don’t watch TV or superhero movies.”

“Hmm,” Maratse said. “I like science fiction.”

“And there are bad guys, right?”

“Iiji.”

“No brains. Lots of muscle. Goons. And Walcott and his goons are looking for you.”

“And they will keep looking.”

“And we keep moving… Maratse?”

“Eeqqi,” he said, pushing himself off the boulder to stand. “I will go down to meet them.”

“And that is just stupid.” Kamiila cursed and then looked away. “Selfish.”

“How is it selfish?”

“Because,” Kamiila said, standing up. She jabbed her finger into Maratse’s chest. “This isn’t about you. It’s about Greenland. But if you feel bad about bad things happening, and if you think going down there and giving yourself up is going to stop it, then you’re thinking only of yourself. You’re giving up on Greenland, the people – your people.” Kamiila lowered her voice. “And you’re giving up on me.”

“Kamiila…”

She shook her head. “I believed in you. It took me a little while, because I didn’t trust you. Then you promised to look after Nukappi, and you brought him back to me. I believed in you then. I followed you into the mountains…”

“You led us into the mountains, Kamiila.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter who was first. I was following you. And I will follow you.” She looked at Maratse, deep into his eyes, and said, “Wherever you go. However hard it will be, I will follow you. Because we’ve started something, and the people need it to continue.” She pointed at Innuina. “She needs it. She came up the mountain, left her child on the path, to find you, because she heard your name, and she thought you could help.”

“But they hurt her, Kamiila.”

“Aap.” Kamiila dipped her head. “But she’s alive. She’ll fight.”

“Fight?”

“Not for you. For Greenland. They all will – everyone. But only if you lead them. Only if you’re free. They have to have hope, and they won’t if Walcott has you.”

“Inniki…”

“Isn’t here,” Kamiila said. “You are.”

“Hmm.” Maratse fell silent, turning his head, away from Kamiila’s intensity, if only for a second.

She’s right.

Inniki’s voice pricked at his conscience.

You know it.

“I have to do this my way,” Maratse whispered.

“What way?” Kamiila reached out for Maratse’s arm, turning him back to face her. “You said something.”

“Iiji.”

“What?”

“I have to do this my way, Kamiila. You want me to lead, you have to let me go first.”

“To Walcott?” Kamiila snorted. “Naamik. No. Just no.”

“I’ll meet with him, to hear what he has to say.”

“He’ll lock you up – or worse.”

“Imaqa, but I won’t know until I’ve talked to him.”

Kamiila jabbed her finger towards Kussannaq. “If you go down there… everything we’ve done… what Nukappi died for…”

“I have to see for myself, Kamiila. I will go down the mountain and look. I need to see what Innuina told us about. I need to see it for myself.”

“And when you do?”

“I’ll come back,” Maratse said.

Kamiila bit her lip, then nodded, just once. “Go,” she said.

Part 6

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Maratse walked beside Innuina, twisting around the mountain until the path broadened and they could see two people waiting in the shadow of a large boulder on the side of the mountain. A wall of fog pushed in from the sea, teasing the coastline with long, cool fingers, digging into the beach and pulling the thick grey mass behind it. Icebergs tall enough to poke through the fog caught the sun’s rays like candlewicks, spreading the light into the ice below, glowing inside the fog. Maratse zipped his jacket to his neck and smiled as Innuina discovered an untapped burst of energy as she ran down the path, curling her arms around her daughter when they met.

“It’s still a bad idea,” Kamiila said, as she closed the distance between her and Maratse. “I still don’t think you should go.”

Maratse looked over his shoulder, nodding at the young guerrilla as she carried the .22 rifle in both hands, eyes flicking back and forth from the path to the sea, back to the mountain.

“I’ll be careful,” Maratse said.

“Careful isn’t cautious. You need to think like a fugitive.”

“Hmm.”

Kamiila tutted and looked away, leaving Maratse to his thoughts before they were interrupted by Kaatsiaaja’s warm hands, as she twisted her fingers between Maratse’s in an awkward but innocent seven-year-old handshake. Maratse smiled, then stepped forward to shake Kilaasi’s hand, nodding at the older man as Kaatsiaaja teased a grin onto Kamiila’s determined face.

“She’s like her ataata,” Kilaasi said, pointing a bent finger at Kamiila.

Maratse looked in the direction he was pointing, catching Kamiila’s eye, if only for a second, before Kaatsiaaja and her mother stepped off the path to rest in pillows of blueberry bushes budding with under ripe fruit.

“She lost her anaana early, and her ataata was sick. He died in hospital in Maniitsoq.” Kilaasi rested on a boulder, and said, “She’s been alone most of her adult life.”

“But she lived in Kussannaq.”

“She came back once she was finished with gymnasium.” Kilaasi tapped the side of his head. “She’s smart. Too smart for Kussannaq. She should have gone to university