The snow had turned vicious, driven by wind that cut through his thin jacket like it wasn’t even there. Ice formed on his eyelashes, making it hard to see. His feet already numb, slipped on the icy sidewalk with every other step. He fell to one knee in the second block, caught himself with one hand while keeping Margaret secure with the other, forced himself back up.
“Stay with me,” he muttered, not sure if he was talking to Margaret or to himself. “Just stay with me.” Margaret stirred slightly on his back, her breath warm against his frozen neck. “Daniel.” “Yeah,” Caleb gasped. “Yeah, it’s Daniel. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“Where are we going?” “Getting you help. Just hold on.” “I’m scared.” “I know. Me too. But we’re going to make it.”
By the fourth block, Caleb’s vision was starting to blur. The edges of the world seemed to pulse and fade like someone was turning the lights up and down. His breathing had become labored. Each inhale burning in his lungs. Each exhale a cloud of white that was immediately torn away by the wind.
He stumbled again, this time going down on both knees. Pain shot through his legs, but he barely felt it. Everything was distant now, muffled like he was watching himself from somewhere far away. “Get up,” he told himself. “Come on, get up.”
His body didn’t want to obey. It wanted to stay down, to rest, to give in to the cold that was no longer uncomfortable, but almost pleasant now, almost warm. That was the dangerous part. That was how people died in the snow. They stopped hurting and started feeling peaceful. And then they just never got up again.
Caleb thought about his mother. Thought about the promise he’d made her. Thought about Margaret Reynolds trusting him with her life because her broken mind had decided he was her son. He got up.
Sixth block, seventh block. Each one an eternity. Each step a victory. Caleb’s mind was starting to play tricks on him, showing him things that weren’t there. He saw his mother standing on a corner, smiling at him, telling him to keep going. He saw warm lights that turned out to be just reflections in ice. He saw the hospital entrance a dozen times only to blink and find he was still blocks away.
“Almost there,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now. “Almost there, Mrs. Reynolds.” Margaret had gone silent on his back, her weight dead and heavy. Caleb couldn’t tell if she was unconscious or worse, and he couldn’t let himself think about it. He just had to keep moving, just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Eighth block. Ninth block. His legs were going to give out. Caleb could feel it. Could feel the way his muscles were beginning to fail. The way each step was becoming more of a controlled fall than actual walking. He was running on nothing now, on fumes, on pure stubborn will, but it wasn’t enough.
In the tenth block, his knee buckled completely. And this time, he couldn’t catch himself. He went down hard, twisting at the last second to take the impact on his shoulder instead of letting Margaret hit the ground. Pain exploded through his body, but he kept his arms locked around her legs, kept her safe even as he lay there in the snow, unable to move.
“Help!” he tried to call out, but his voice was gone. “Please, somebody help us!” No one answered. The street was empty, the world reduced to nothing but wind and snow and darkness. Caleb tried to push himself up, but his arms wouldn’t support his weight anymore. He tried again, managed to get to his knees, then collapsed once more.
Margaret slid partially off his back, and he scrambled to keep hold of her to keep her head out of the snow. This was it. This was as far as he could go. He’d tried. He’d given everything he had, but it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Margaret, to his mother, to whoever might be listening. “I’m so sorry.”
And then he saw them. Lights, real lights, not a hallucination this time. Bright lights cutting through the snow, growing larger, getting closer. A car was coming down the street, moving slowly through the storm. Caleb raised one arm, waving weakly. “Help!” he croaked. “Please help!”
The car slowed, stopped, a door opened. Caleb heard shouting, heard running footsteps crunching through the snow. “Mom! Oh my god, mom!” Strong hands were on him, rolling him over, checking Margaret. A man’s face, wild with fear and relief, looked down at him.
“Who are you? What happened?” Caleb tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. The world was spinning now, tilting sideways, turning dark around the edges. “Hospital,” he managed to whisper. “She needs hospital.” “We’re going right now, both of you.”
Caleb felt himself being lifted. Felt Margaret being taken from his arms. He tried to hold on to her to make sure she was okay, but his body had nothing left to give. “It’s okay,” the man’s voice said from somewhere far away. “I’ve got her. I’ve got both of you. You saved her. Do you understand me? You saved my mother’s life.”
Caleb felt himself being loaded into a car, felt warmth beginning to seep into his frozen body, and then he felt nothing at all as consciousness finally, mercifully slipped away.