Shadow: The Origin Of A Legend

Chapter 34

Scourge shivers, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Concerned, I glance over at him out the corner of my eye, noting the blue pallor in his skin. Alarm shoots through me as his teeth start to chatter even though he's sound asleep. We're huddled as much out of the wind as possible, and he's pressed up against a dumpster; something inside of it is decaying, the chemical decomposition letting out mild amounts of heat as a by-product, but not enough to warm him up. I lean forward, gingerly reaching a hand out to his forehead; to my terror, he's unnaturally cold. Grimacing, I force myself to get up, despite the fact that every tired bone in my body is begging me to stay seated. Looking down at him, I pause for a moment, my frigid brain trying to work. The snail-like speed of my thoughts frightens me--if it's cold enough out here that I'm having a rough time concentrating, there's no way Scourge can withstand it. How am I supposed to help him? Chewing on my lip for a moment, the gears in my head turn; suddenly, an idea flashes into my mind. I pull my left hand inside my jacket, using the other to sort of tie off the end of the sleeve and keep my stored food from falling out--in this cold, my fingertips are numb and won't work properly, but I force myself to figure it out anyways. Once that's done, I unzip my jacket, removing my left arm from it, and pull my other arm out, trying off its corresponding sleeve. Stepping out of the jacket, I shudder with cold but force myself to ignore the horrible feeling. My breath catches in my throat, made ragged by my muscles' spasms as they try to keep some trace of warmth in my body. Zipping the jacket up again, I shake the snow off it gently and drape it over Scourge's sleeping form, doing my best not to wake him. He flinches, and I hold my breath, terrified of waking him, but he simply grimaces in his sleep, sharp teeth grinding together. Stepping back, I exhale in relief, then turn around. I need to find something else to cover him with, preferably a blanket.

Shrugging, I decide to just start heading down the street. I'll walk until I can find someone to help me, I decide, looking around. My feet hurt, my legs ache and my head is pounding for whatever reason, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, arms crossed over my chest, hands rubbing my shoulders. Fortunately, I'm out of the wind, but each time I pass a north-to-south street, cold wind blasts me; I know that the moment I step onto a main street, I'll become half-iced. Despite that knowledge, I keep moving, pausing only for a moment to get my bearings after reaching a large yet empty intersection. The intersection of 4th and 43rd... I nod to myself, committing it to memory. Turning left, I brace myself as the gale whips into me, causing me to shudder violently. Come on, I tell myself, just get to this upcoming corner, just keep going. The snow slashes my face harshly, the ferocity of the wind bringing tears to my eyes yet whipping them right off my face the second they form. Gasping in the cold, I try planting one foot in front of the other, forcing myself to concentrate on just staying in motion. I stare vacantly forward, trembling, not even seeing the road in front of me. My vision is blurry, darkness swimming at the edge of my eyesight. Once I reach the other side, I stop, looking around; to my surprise, I spot a sign hanging from the corner across the street. Squinting, trying to force my vision to focus on the sign. After a few seconds, I gasp aloud, ignoring the sting in the back of my throat from the icy air. The sign says 'CHEAP BLANKETS AND RUGS HALF PRICE' and then something underneath it in a kanji language. I dash forward across the relatively deserted street, trying desperately not to stumble. My legs are stiff and practically refuse to bend but I shove myself forward anyways. Skidding to a stop, I grab onto the door handle, but it doesn't open.

Despair shatters my heart and I slump with a groan. So close... I slam my fist into the doorframe, trying not to lose hope. I'm sure I can find something else. I definitely can. Shivering uncontrollably, I step back, lurching a bit. My legs won't work right, and even though my fur is fluffed up against the wind I can feel the wintry air leeching the warmth right out of my bones. Terrified, I think of Scourge, and his thinner fur coat--if I'm about to pass out just standing here, he can't possibly survive the cold unless I get back to him quickly. Panic sets in as I feel the clock ticking; whirling around, I begin to run back the way I came, keeping my eyes peeled, but before I can even cross the street I hear a door open behind me.