AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Zipping my coat all the way up to my chin, I pull the hood over my hair. My wallet gets shoved into a pocket, and I finger on my gloves before cracking the door to my car open.
Pushing one leg out, my foot is instantly buried in snow. The only thing I have to be thankful for in this situation is the fact that I’m wearing waterproof hiking boots with excellent traction.
No sooner do I think that than I shift my weight to step the rest of the way out of the car, and the foot holding the majority of my weight starts to slide. I clench my core and glute muscles in an effort to keep my foot under me, but it’s useless and I go down like a bag of bricks. Snow melts against the seat of my pants, creating an uncomfortable wet mess.
Using my car, I manage to haul myself upright and blow out another breath, watching as the vapor trail mists off into nowhere.
The chill of the wind is cold enough to cut diamonds and sends shivers dancing down my arms until I have to clench my teeth to stop them from chattering.
Stupid storm. Stupid wet pants. Stupid almost empty gas tank.
Fifty feet down the road, I still have no service. It’s getting darker and darker, and the prospect of sleeping in my car is starting to sound more appealing than trekking through the frozen tundra that this road is turning into. My pants could turn into hunks of ice frozen to my legs worse than a tongue to a metal pole in winter.
“You’ve survived worse, girly.”
My pep talk does nothing to help the nerves making my hands shake.
I start working my way back toward my car. I know that I have an emergency kit in the back—including one of those aluminum foil blankets for heat—so it won’t be the most uncomfortable night I’ve spent.
Who knows. Maybe the snow will stop falling soon, and I can inch my way home to my warm and cozy bed.
Yeah, I’m not buying that either.
* * *
Hours later, I’m contemplating how far I actually am from town as my teeth click against each other and I huddle under the crinkly heat blanket.
My pants are still damp, and chafing is becoming a concern with the shiver-induced friction burn that’s starting on my inner thighs.
Luckily the snow has slowed down, just enough for me to make out my front bumper. The bad news is that I can see exactly how high the damn stuff is piled against the side of the car, and I know that without a snow shovel, I’m not getting out of this mess with my car anytime today.
A particularly hard shiver hits me, and with it I lose the last of my patience. I rip the heat blanket off my shoulders and only have a second to regret the decision before rage fires in my blood like a volcano, heating me from the inside.
Another shove and grunt pushes my door open against the packed snow, and reaching back, I grab the heat blanket just in case. I slam the door shut. I’ll fucking walk back to town before I turn into a human popsicle waiting on the side of the road.
Pulling the drawstring on my jacket tighter, I manage to cut a fraction of the wind that’s blowing against my face, saving my ears from the cold assault.
One foot in front of the other I walk. And walk and walk and walk. Turning around, I can’t see my car anymore. I still don’t have service, so I keep trekking along.
If I remember right there are some cabins around this area, and I keep my eyes peeled to the sides of the roads, both for some sort of structure, but also to make sure that an irresponsible driver doesn’t take me out in their rush through the weather.
It’s only eight at night, but holy wow, it feels like I’ve been stuck for days in this godforsaken mess.
Stopping to take a breath, I glance around. I can’t even see the streetlights of Felt yet and that’s not a good sign.
Twisting my head to pop the tension built up in my neck, I catch a glimpse of light from the right.
Holy freaking shit. There’s a house. Someone’s actually in it.
I’m saved.
This is definitely how horror movies start. The damsel in distress walks up to a house that she has no idea who lives in to beg and plead for warmth.
But I’m too exhausted to frickin’ care.
The prospect of being warm and dry wins out over my overactive imagination, and I high-step my way down a driveway until I come to a covered porch and bang on the door.
“Hello! Is anyone in there? I could use some help.” Even my voice is as wobbly as my balance right now, and sheer pride keeps me from crying.
