Free Synthetics by B. Wulf Page B

worst, devil. I am not afraid.”
    Then Frederick drew back his arm and threw the man towards the line of soldiers. He sailed through the air, screaming in rage all the while, until he was silenced by gravity. He landed in a snowdrift beside a truck and lay there moaning.
    The firing did not resume. Instead the thugs packed their incapacitated leader into the back of a truck and retreated. They even kindly left a jeep behind in their haste. I was in shock.
    “So what happens now?” I stammered.
    “We follow them to civilization, contact CANA and then wait out the storm.”
    I suspected that there would be multiple kinds of storms on the horizon.
     
    ***
     
    “We’re running low on gas,” said Cole, the inside of the jeeps cabin was icy cold, “We will have to find shelter soon.”
    We had lost the retreating convoy in the blizzard, which overtook us that night. Cole didn’t even bother with the headlights. They made no difference in these conditions and just made it harder to spot lights. I was praying for a light to appear in the darkness. I wanted warmth. Nothing more. Just warmth. My joints were aching and my breath made me look like a chain smoker. I started wondering what it would be like to freeze to death.
    “It’s empty,” said Cole softly as the Jeep coughed and died.
    I guess I would get to find out what it felt like soon enough.
    “We will have to walk.”
    I looked like an ewok in the four jackets I had on. We had found a stash in the boot of the jeep. I pitied Frederick who was crammed into the back. He wasn’t a very convenient size.
    “But we’ll freeze out there,” I said.
    “We will freeze in here as well. At least we will have a chance.”
    I couldn’t speak. I was twenty years old and about to die in a Siberian wasteland. All I could think of was Kate. I wanted my last thoughts to be of Kate.
    “Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste here.”
    Shaking like a leaf in a cyclone, I stepped out into the tumult.
     
    ***
     
    With each step I felt my strength leaving me. Cole staggered along beside me. We grasped Frederick’s waist, taking shelter from the wind. I was soaked to the bone and couldn’t feel my hands or feet. I’d lost my replacement cane, unable to grip the slick handle, so each step was agony. Frederick essentially dragged me along. He still did not speak.
    Every single human through history has faced what Cole and I were about to face. It came in many shapes and forms but its essence was the same. It was like the moment when you were perched on the edge of a cliff and then you felt yourself being pushed off. It wasn’t the falling that terrified you. It was the uncertainty. What was at the bottom of the cliff? Water or concrete? How high was the cliff? Two feet or two hundred? There was always the little flame of hope, that perhaps you would survive the fall. Perhaps there was something waiting for you at the bottom, something that explained why you had to fall in the first place. But surrounding that hope was the enshrouding dark of realism. There was nothing at the bottom. Only concrete.
    My flame was growing dim. I passed out.

 
    Chapter 9
     
    My eyes opened. It took me almost a minute to focus the amorphous blurs and realize that I was not dead. It was so warm.
    “Where am I?” I asked no one in particular.
    My surroundings were realigning and I could make out a stained timber roof, tinted orange from the light of a flickering fire.
    “You’re a guest in the home of Mariana Kerensky.”
    I recognized Cole’s voice.
    “Why aren’t I dead?” I asked.
    I had a throbbing headache, my tongue felt swollen, and my bung leg was aching.
    “Frederick,” said Cole.
    He was sitting by my bed. Frederick?
    “Did you pass out as well?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    I sat up and my world started spinning. I spotted Frederick standing in the corner like a suit of armor.
    “Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
    Frederick did not speak but left the room. As he