Freeze (The Jewel Project #4)

5.2|| The Underworld

The darkness wasn't warm. And he needed warmth more than anything. Violent shivers ran through his body like frozen ants marching up and down his back, up his arms to the rhythm of the wailing sirens. The sirens that indicated he didn't have much time. And the blackness turned into white. The light brought on a throbbing headache, but he fought it because he had to. He couldn't, wouldn't pass out.

Though it hurt like a bitch, Tom opened his eyes. The world was skewed, some of it a darker shade of white. He could only see snow, but it looked oddly grey, as if he laid in stormy clouds. He blinked and the world came into better focus. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the side, and he was staring at the dyke. Of course it looked grey. Snow fell from the sky in thick layers, making it almost impossible to see. The light of day had all but faded into night. A gust of wind blew past him, sending him into a trembling fit.

Sam. Where was Sam? The sound of the sirens became louder and he could hear people shouting and screaming. It was only a matter of time before they came down, found them, took them to a hospital. Started asking questions. That couldn't happen.

Even if he felt like his skin was breaking, Tom brought his hands under him and pushed himself up. His head spun, but he gritted his teeth and brought his feet under him as well, positioning himself into a crouch. Bile rose to his mouth and he dropped back to his knees. Thank God he hadn't eaten anything.

Beating down the sickness, he pushed the sunglasses straight on his nose. It was a miracle they hadn't broken in the fall. They helped with all the whiteness and the pounding in his head subsided for the tiniest bit. It was enough to help him focus.

His eyes scanned the snow at the foot of the dyke and barely managed to catch sight of a colorful lump. He charged that way on all fours, trying to keep as low as his battered body allowed him. He would've gone into full on crawl mode if he thought he could pull it off. As it was, he only had awkward doggy walk.

Tom reached his twin, his gaze fixed on the people at the edge of the river basin, pointing and screaming. Getting out of there was going to be nearly impossible since he was limping like mad and Sam was apparently knocked out. Because Tom was sure he wasn't dead or seriously injured. He could feel it. And it was confirmed once he focused on Sam.

His face was mostly fine except for a few scratches. He did have a lump on the side of his head which was probably the reason for him blacking out. Other than that, scratches, bruises and hopefully, nothing broken. All he had to do was drag him away and hide him... where? He scanned the whiteness, trying to find a hiding place. And he finally saw something promising - a bridge stretching across the river not very far away. It was the only possibility in an otherwise open field.

Tom secured his hold under Sam's arms and heaved. Every muscle in his body protested, but ultimately complied. As fast as possible, he scurried backwards, dragging Sam across the snow, leaving a deep trail behind. Hopefully, the fresh snow falling in abundance from the sky would cover their trail soon enough.

Come on, adrenaline, come on. Do your thing. He shuffled faster until he finally reached the shadow of the bridge. The sound of sirens and screaming was blissfully covered by the flowing river and created a sense of security. If he couldn't see and hear the people, then maybe they wouldn't be seen or heard either.

He dropped Sam on a patch of ground with less snow and checked his pulse. It was there, slow but steady. Tom proceeded to check every other wound he could see on Sam, but apart from scratches and minor burns, the bump on the head was the biggest issue. That and the fact they might freeze to death if they didn't move their asses soon.

"Sam," Tom mumbled, shaking him as gently as possible. "Come on, Sam. I need your big brain." A harder shake and slap across the face did the trick.