Jove put both of the captured guns away on the supply sled, along with the crowbar. As much as he would have liked to keep a weapon on him, he didn't have a holster like Eve and didn't want anything bouncing loose from his pocket.
They rode north, opposite the way they'd originally come from, but on the side of Port Sirius where the warehouse they needed was located. The snow was already picking up and they didn't have to ride all that far before their view in the distance was obscured by the weather.
"Now we wait," said Jove.
They both sat down in between the snowmobiles, which made for a wind-block, if an inadequate one. It was late in the day, and they ate some of the food they'd brought, peanut butter sandwiches made from a cracker-like bread along with frozen carrots.
The sun still didn't really set in Antarctica at that time of the year, but it did drop lower on the horizon, lengthening the shadows and reducing their visibility even further. Eve leaned her shoulder against him, and he heard her teeth start to chatter.
"I just want to go back to the station," she muttered. "Fuck. I should have appreciated how warm and comfortable it was more than I did."
"We'll make it back," he said. "And we'll have all the propane we'll need with us. Imagine how thrilled Mom and Aunt Aster will be."
Eve didn't say anything. Jove let his mind start to wander. He thought about Aster, their night of passion and ongoing flirtations. He wanted to make her understand how he felt about her, but of course, to do that he would have to first understand it himself.
"We should make the attempt soon," said Eve, after an hour or so. "If we wait any longer, we won't be able to see anything."
"True enough."
The snow was coming down in fat, floaty flakes, but just as much was being whipped and stirred around off the ground by the wind. Jove dusted off his snowmobile's saddle and set about getting it started.
He worried on their approach that they might have already waited too long, given how hard it was to see through the growing whiteout. Their tracks were only visible for the first minute or two of the ride before becoming too faint to follow at speed.
Finally, the fuel warehouse came into view. The question of how the hell they were going to get a 100-gallon tank moving through the snow was partially answered by a couple of transport sleds off to the side behind the building, though it had to be near the upper limit of what a snowmobile could tow.
They parked behind the warehouse, out of direct view of Port Sirius's main buildings, though the blowing snow already obscured that sightline. Jove tried the warehouse's door, but it was firmly locked shut.
"I should have demanded the key from that asshole," said Eve.
"He would have known that we needed propane, which would have tipped him off to Termina Station still having power," said Jove.
"He'll guess as much eventually when we don't come back."
"Maybe."
Jove frowned, not much liking the idea of Victor and dozens of his employees searching for them. As cruel as it felt to attempt to keep Termina Station for just himself and his family, he had a sense of what kind of man Victor Vasquez was. As long as Victor held influence over the other survivors, they needed to treat all of them like potential threats.
Grabbing his crowbar, Jove set about getting the door open. It was surprisingly easy due to the door's flimsy construction and the fact that it was built to be large enough to pass heavy loads through. Jove leveraged a gap wide enough for him to get his arm through and simply reached up and undid the lock.
"We may have lucked out after all," said Eve, as they took stock of the warehouse's interior.
One of the propane tanks was already loaded onto one of the sleds. The thick straps holding it in place were even tightened, except for one near the back. Jove found the hitch up at the front, but hesitated as he considered the situation.
"How do we know that it's full?" he asked.
"Why would it be in the warehouse if it wasn't?" pointed out Eve. "All the ones outside are clearly empty. They were either in the middle of unloading this one after transporting it off a ship or loading it up to bring to wherever they resupply the building's main tanks."
"Sound enough logic," he said.
Eve brought her snowmobile around and they quickly got the sled strapped up. Jove's optimism waned as she attempted to start towing it only for the snowmobile's treads to spin up snow.
"I'll try pushing from the back," he suggested.
"Once it gets on snow, it'll be easier," said Eve. "At least I hope."
The problem, as was so often the case, became obvious when he stopped to look. The tanker sled had wheels for moving across ground that wasn't snow which could be moved up or down as needed, and all of them currently had their locks engaged.
"Try it now," said Jove.
Eve did and the tanker sled immediately followed after her. "There we go! Close the shed up and get on your own snowmobile. Let's get the fuck out of here."