Page 161 of Unruly

The rain had stopped.

He was still freezing.

Resting on his back in a ditch, he stared up at the inky sky. Dotted with speckles of stars, it would be a nice sight if not for the cloud of gray that blurred his vision every single time he breathed.

He needed to get warm. He needed a damn shower. He needed home, his wife, and his daughter.

Despite the fact he knew he should start moving again to keep warm, Cross didn’t dare leave his spot. As it was, it took him a hell of a long time to get from Bluebell to Plaster Rock on foot. And now here he was, resting under the Welcome to Plaster Rock, New Brunswick, Home of World Pond Hockey sign.

Fucking ugly thing.

Clearly, his mood was also worsening.

Cross was perpetually wet, now. From his shoes to his clothes, soaked through, freezing wet. That probably wasn’t helping his mood a whole lot, to be honest.

Lost in his thoughts, Cross nearly missed the flash of lights coming from his left. A few seconds later, that same flash of lights came again. Rolling over to his knees, he poked his head up out of the ditch just enough to look down the road.

A car moved slowly through the dark. Too slow for it to be normal, considering the speed sign stated eighty kilometers per hour was the limit. This car was maybe going fifteen.

Given it was close to twelve at night, the road was basically empty. People around there apparently didn’t get out much at night, but that’s usually how it was for small rural towns, anyway. The only thing to find at night around there was probably trouble.

Like him.

Again, the car flashed its lights.

Through the darkness, he could see it wasn’t a cop car, but he still didn’t trust himself to get up out of the ditch and make his presence known.

Zeke would—

“Cross!”

Laughing with exhaustion, Cross pushed out of the wet ditch and right out into the middle of the road. The car stopped ten feet away. Zeke called his name one more time, as though he wasn’t sure what he was seeing in that moment. Cross felt so fucking relieved he almost fell over.

But he didn’t.

“Get in this fucking car. We’re running short on time,” Zeke yelled.

Cross didn’t need to be told a second time.

He climbed into the back, not the front. Warm air clung to his skin the second he closed the door, but it still wasn’t even close to being enough.

“Turn the heat up,” Cross hissed.

His teeth chattered.

His skin felt like it was peeling off.

“It’s all the way up, man,” Zeke said quietly over his shoulder.

“Fuck.”

Zeke’s gaze met his in the rearview. “You look like shit.”

“I have been in the woods for a day, night, another day, and this would have been a second night.”

“You had a half of a dozen cabins scouted, Cross.”

He nodded, feeling half dazed and half crazed. “Yeah, but they were too close to the outside rim of the damn twenty mile radius they always search. Couldn’t trust it. I just kept moving, anyway.”