Frostbitten (Otherworld 10)

The lights danced for a moment, then winked out.

The ice beneath my feet groaned. I took a careful step. Then slid my other foot forward as slowly and carefully as I could, shifting my weight--

With a tremendous crack, the ice under me gave way and my legs plunged into the water, the cold so unbelievable that my brain shorted out, my gasp ringing in my ears. Then I felt ice under my fingers and under my cheek and I snapped to. I lay half on the ice, blessedly solid--

Without even a warning crack, the piece broke away and dropped into the river, me still clinging to it. I felt the water surge over me, so cold it was an ice pick to my brain. And then, nothing.

I came to hurtling downstream underwater, caught in the current. I fought, twisting and writhing, but it was like tumbling through space. I had no idea which way was up. The agony of the cold was indescribable and my barely functional brain could only stutter through half-remembered statistics.

It took twenty minutes to die in icy water. Or was that two minutes? No, it had to be ten. At least ten. Please let it be ten.

I finally got my eyes open enough to see the way up--faintly lighter than the other directions. I propelled myself toward it. Up, up--

My fists bashed against solid ice.

I kept bashing, so close to freedom, those statistics circling my head like vultures. But it was like trying to break a window with a feather. My superstrength didn't matter. The water kept me from getting up enough momentum to break the ice.

I was trapped and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. All my strength, all my powers, all my instinct to survive--all useless.

When we die, we're supposed to see the faces of our loved ones flashing before our eyes. I wanted that. I so desperately wanted that. Everyone I cared about--Clay, my children, Jeremy, my Pack, my friends.

But my brain wouldn't let me picture them. It just kept screaming that I was going to die and I had to do something.

I opened my eyes a slit again and saw one patch of ice overhead that was lighter than the rest, as if I could see the snow through it. I swam toward it, fighting the current, barely moving but keeping at it, inch by inch. I knew that patch was probably an illusion--the reflection of a star through the thick ice. I knew I probably wasn't even going to make it that far.

And then I saw my family's faces, not a serene, smiling final portrait of my loved ones, but Kate's blue eyes wide with panic, Logan's dark with worry, Clay's blazing, furious as he snarled at me to stop thinking I wouldn't make it, stop thinking it wouldn't be a hole, just swim, goddamn it, swim!

I reached up. My hands broke the water's surface, then came down on an edge as sharp as a steel blade. I gripped it, but the ice shattered under my fingers.

I pushed my head up, out of the water, gasping. The air felt like red-hot pokers shoved down my throat, the pain nearly making me black out. But I lifted my head above the water until I caught my breath, then felt along the edge of the icy hole. I found the thickest spot and managed to get my chest up onto the ice, but when I tried to push out farther, the ice groaned and cracked.

"Hold still!" a voice shouted.

I turned my head to see a figure running along the river's edge. It was Noah, stripping off his jacket as he ran. I tried to wriggle farther onto the ice.

"Hold still!" he yelled. "If it breaks, you're going under and you aren't coming back up."

He stopped parallel to me, then shimmied out on the ice until he got as far as he deemed safe. He tested it, rocking back and forth, then crouched. Holding one cuff of his jacket, he tossed it toward me. The other sleeve sailed out like a life-rope... and fell six inches short of my hand.

I wiggled, trying to reach it, but he yanked the jacket back with an angry "Stay still."

Moving on his stomach, he inched farther out, then threw it again. This time, it brushed my fingers. I caught the edge of the cuff, something I could tell by sight alone, my fingers too numb to feel the fabric between them.

I managed to get enough of a grip to tug myself nearer, then wrap it around my wrist. Noah pulled. I kicked, wriggling onto the ice, hearing it crack behind me. Noah kept pulling, carefully, then he heaved. The ice cracked and fell away as I shot toward him.

Noah backed up, still pulling, still telling me not to move, his face taut with concentration, tendons bulging as he dragged me to the riverbank.

"Okay," he said as I came to rest, huddled at the edge. "We need to--"

"What'd you pull out of the river, boy?" a voice echoed from the forest. "Is that my girl?"

Tesler stepped from the woods, his brother at his heels. Noah straightened. He turned from me, and there was my chance to escape. Leap up, knock Noah down and run... and I was no more capable of doing that than if I'd been bound hand and foot.

I huddled there, shaking violently. I tried to concentrate, but it was like standing on the precipice to oblivion--it took everything I had just to stay conscious and breathe.

"She fell in," Noah called back. His voice had changed, concern falling away, the timbre deepening, like a teen boy with his buddies. "Stupid city bitch. She ran out onto the river and fell through. If you want her alive, you're going to need to get her back to the cabin, pronto. She needs to get out of those wet clothes."

Tesler bent over me, teeth and eyes glittering. "Well, then, that's what we'll have to do. I wasn't planning to keep her in them for long anyway."