The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 172

The four of them returned to the vehicle, grabbed tactical shovels, and headed back to the ruins of the supply station.

Professor Harrison crouched down, found a spot near the edge of the toughest permafrost, and traced out a rectangle.

"Dig here."

"Alright."

Thud.

Josh drove his shovel down. A chunk of frozen earth popped up, scattering icy debris across his face, but he didn't even blink. He swung a second time, then a third, putting his entire body weight behind every strike. The metal blade struck the permafrost with the sharp, ringing crunch of hitting solid rock.

Diego dug beside him. After a couple of scoops, he had to stop to catch his breath before resuming.

His movements were aggressive but sloppy, tossing uneven chunks of dirt haphazardly around the edge of the pit.

"Slow down," Professor Harrison instructed. "Don't just use brute force. Chip away at it little by little."

Standing nearby, Sloane reached for a shovel, but Josh firmly caught her hand.

"Sloane, you don't need to dig. Just go rest over there."

"I'm not useless—"

"I know you aren't." Josh didn't look at her, never breaking his rhythm with the shovel. "But you need to conserve your energy right now. We still have a mission ahead of us."

Sloane watched him. Sweat was already beading on his forehead, instantly crystallizing into a thin layer of frost in the negative forty-degree air.

She didn't argue further.

After a while, the grave was ready. It wasn't deep. The permafrost was simply too hard, so they only managed to dig down to knee-level. But it was enough. Enough to lay a man to rest.

The four of them gathered at the edge of the ruins to lift the body.

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