Free Ice Storm by Penny Draper

pickups and four-wheel drives filled up with people and snaked back down the lane. Some of them went back to their own homes to sleep and others went on to Farm B to help with the chores there. Maman cleaned the kitchen. Sébastien went back to his chart, studying the details of the next shift.
    Sophie collected all the dirty towels to go into the washing machine at midnight when they next got the generator, and then slumped down on a kitchen chair with a tired smile. Really, the power outage was an awful lot of fun.
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    “Girl? Girl! Wake up!”
    Alice rolled over in her sleeping bag. She was so warm. Except for her nose, which felt like a small icicle. She poked that icicle out of the tent.
    “Yes, Mrs. Hartley?” she asked groggily. “Do you need something?”
    Mrs. Hartley was sitting up on the sofa. She raised her eyebrows. “Girl, I need a lot of things, most of which I can’t have. Right now, I need my medicine. It’s in my backyard.”
    “Where?” asked Alice. She was hardly awake.
    “My backyard. I never took you to be stupid, girl. Wake up!”
    Alice crawled out of the tent. “Why is your medicine in your backyard? Where in your backyard?” Alice was trying, but this was a little weird.
    “I’m diabetic,” said Mrs. Hartley slowly, enunciating each word as if she was speaking to an idiot. “My insulin has to be kept cold. How cold is your fridge these days, girl?” demanded the old lady.
    “Well, pretty cold,” replied Alice tartly. She was awake now. “I filled it with ice and snow.”
    “Hmmm,” said Mrs. Hartley. “Well, I said you weren’t stupid. The insulin is right outside the back door, stuck in a snowbank. I need one vial marked “40” and one marked “50.” And I need my diabetic kit. It’s in the downstairs medicine cabinet. And if you don’t want me passing out on you, you’d better get it NOW!”
    Alice hurried. A passed-out Mrs. Hartley would not be a good thing to have in her living room. She shrugged into one of Dad’s coats and went out the back door. The insulin was easy to find, the diabetic kit not so much. Boy, the old lady took an awful lot of medicine! Alice took a quick look...she had more pill containers than a pharmacy. There were a couple of medical kits; one had a bunch of needles in it, and another had a couple of little electronic dohickeys with a whole bunch of tiny white strips of plastic. Alice wasn’t sure which kit Mrs. Hartley needed, although the needles seemed a pretty good bet. She grabbed both. Luckily Mrs. Hartley hadn’t passed out by the time she got back.
    Mrs. Hartley used one of the electronic dohickeys to prick her finger and squeezed a big drop of blood on one of the plastic strips. Alice was horrified and fascinated all at once. The old lady stuck the bloody plastic thing in the other machine and it started to beep. When it finished beeping, Mrs. Hartley checked the readout on the machine. “Not good,” she murmured to herself. She looked at the “40” vial. The liquid inside was too cold, nearly frozen. She couldn’t draw it out of the vial. Mrs. Hartley gave the vial to Alice.
    “Warm it up; roll it between your hands. You’ll have more body heat than me.”
    Alice did what she was told, and then handed the vial back. Mrs. Hartley took one of the needles and inserted it into the vial. It was just like in the movies, when the bad guy fills a needle with poison to kill somebody. Alice watched with wide eyes as Mrs. Hartley lifted up her nightgown and stuck the needle right into her side. Gross, gross, and super gross!
    “Is that what all diabetics have to do?” asked Alice when she had recovered from the sight of Mrs. Hartley’s wrinkled stomach.
    Mrs. Hartley fixed a look on Alice. Then she sighed. “If they’re insulin dependent. Some people can just take pills, but not me.”
    “What will happen if you don’t take the insulin?”
    “I’ll die,” said Mrs. Hartley simply.
    It was Alice’s turn to stare at Mrs.