A Hero's Reward Read Online Free PDF Page A

beginning to throb in a familiar manner.
    He finally gave up and opened the door,
it wasn't locked but he still had to force it since it was frozen
shut. He leaned in to speak to Margaret and got a good look at her.
The light of the moon shining off of the ice illuminated her clearly.
She was lying on her back. Her angel's face showed a hint of blue,
her exposed hands were red and blue, and he could see tracks of
frozen tears flowing down the sides of her face, leading from the
corners of her eyes down to tiny pools of ice where the tracks
intersected her ears. Her ears had redirected the freezing tears
towards her ear lobes which were now decorated with miniature
icicles, shimmering in the moonlight.
    Not again! What is with this lady? Doesn't she care if she
lives or not?
    “Margaret!” he said shaking
her shoulder lightly.
    There was no answer.
    “Margaret!” he tried again
louder.
    A soft exhalation came from her mouth,
but she didn't move. And didn't answer.
    Oh, Fuck! He thought, This
is gonna hurt so much.
    Greg reached in and took her by the
shoulders. He started to drag her out of the car, pausing momentarily
when his back screamed at him. She still didn't move or react in any
fashion. He continued to slide her from the car, her progress
accompanied by the light tinkle of her icy tears cracking and falling
away to the ice coated asphalt. When he had her all the way out and
she still hadn't moved at all he considered his options and thought: Oh, to hell with it! Guess I won't be off the painkillers as
quickly as I thought before slinging her into a fireman's carry
again.
    Biting back a scream of agony, Greg
slammed the car door and started moving towards his house. After
trying two normal steps and nearly falling with each one he went back
to the skating move he had used to get here in the first place. The
streets were empty and no-one was in sight. With his only distraction
being the internal screaming of his back, he made his way across the
street. The slight incline to his front door proved a problem until
he remembered the skiers' herringbone pattern. Turning one foot
sideways to the slope gave him a moment or two to move his other
foot, so in a hesitant, yet rapid as he could manage, shuffle he made
it to his front door. Moving to open the door caused Margaret to
start sliding from his shoulder. He moved through the door as quickly
as he could and helped turn her slide into a gentle, controlled fall
to the floor.
    He closed the door quickly and wanted
nothing more than to collapse to the floor himself. He knew, though,
that if he didn't get a fresh dose of his painkillers into him he was
going to be useless and he had a lot more to do. Shuffling painfully
into the kitchen he grabbed his painkillers and downed two of them.
Moving back out into the living room he grabbed his blanket from the
couch. He placed himself on the floor next to Margaret and covered
the two of them with the blanket. There was more he should be doing
but until the pain in his back eased, this was going to have to
suffice.
    Greg pressed himself against Margaret,
trying to warm her with his body heat. He kept reviewing what he
remembered of treatment for hypothermia, which he was pretty sure was
the problem. The clothes would have to go. Then he would need more
blankets or anything else that might get her core body temperature
up. He remembered from his time as a boy scout that you needed to get
the core body temperature back up slowly. Too fast and you caused
even more problems. He planned as best as he could while waiting for
his medication to kick in. Margaret was still breathing, but very
slowly and shallowly. He had felt drips of water as the tear tracks
on her face melted away so she was at least starting to warm up.
    In time his back pain eased and as soon
as he noticed that, he began to move. The first thing he did was to
remove his boots and outer clothing so his body heat could get out
easier. Then he tried to remove Margaret's