“It’s really coming down,” said George. He rubbed his hands together, blowing some heat into his frigid palms.
Neal’s eyes turned toward the door. Without moving his body, they didn’t quite reach it. “Out there?”
“Well there’s no snow in here.”
“Not yet.”
“Now don’t talk that way, Neal.”
This time, Neal turned to fully face the door. “It’s all coming down.”
Red stepped around Neal, huddled on the floor, and took a seat beside the empty fireplace. “Yeah, that’d be just swell, wouldn’t it, Neal?”
George rounded on him “What’s that mean?”
Silence overtook the cabin.
George rummaged in his pack. “Here, there’s a bit of that biscuit left.”
“I’m not hungry, George,” said Neal.
George pressed it toward him. “Here, Neal, take it.”
Red’s face fell to a grimace. “Oh- Jesus, George, he dropped it.”
“You got to take it, Neal. Here.”
“Fuck’s sake. What for, just let him be. It’d just go to waste,” said Red.
“We all got to eat, now, Red,” said George.
“He’s been trying to die the last two days, george. Why waste more food on it?”
George stood squarely facing Red. “Lay off him, now.”
A quiet voice came from behind the two of them. “It’s like it’s blowing through my bones, George.”
George turned back toward him. “Now you got to work that blood around, Neal. It ain’t good sitting still like you’re doing.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Neal.
“No one’s god damn going anywhere,” said Red.
“Is that so bad?” said Neal.
Red looked at him. “Great, he’s still got his wits.”
“Maybe it’s not so bad.”
George stepped over to Neal. “Just keep rubbing your arms, Neal. You see what you do, red? It’s us you’re fighting.”
“Me? No, George, I have nothing to do with this. Neal’s a corpse in waiting.”
“He’s right here, Red. Don’t call at him like that.”
Red laughed. “Yeah, great. These walls sound like they’ll give any minute, and you’re turning preacher. Looks like last rites will be a while longer.”
“Red-“
Neal looked over to the window, caked with white from the outside. “How is it that snow’s all white and it’s making the night even darker?”
“It’s just night, that’s all, Neal,” said George. “Maybe the moon’ll come out in a bit.”
“It’s snowing, George. We can’t even see our breath in this hole,” said Red.
George sniffed. “Damn Prometheus. Should’ve taken the lightning. Make our own fires.”
“Yeah, well, if you want to tell him, I think I know where he’s at. Couldn’t have gotten far,” said Red.
“Every day,” said Neal. “That’s the worst part of it, too, he knew it’d be the same every day.”
George took a spot on the floor next to Neal. “Here, Red, get a bit closer on his side. We got to share our warmth.”
“Ow,” said Neal.
“Red-“
“It’s fine,” said Red.
“It’s fine,” said Neal.
The wind outside yowled like a winter coyote. “It’s like it’s trying to get in,” said Neal.
Red looked over at the battered wooden frame. “Well, I shoved everything I could against that door. It’s gonna have to really try.”
“Maybe we should get a handful of snow, or something,” said George. “Try to melt it a bit.”
“We open that door and it’s not turning any other way. Your brother’ll get his wish,” said Red.”
“You better watch your mouth now.”
Red put his hands up. “I’m saying it’s a dumb idea.”
George cooled a bit. “Well. We got to have something to drink eventually.”
“Yeah, well maybe there’s a bottle of rye under that body in the corner.”
“Not a bad way,” said Neal.
“Keep rubbing your hands, Neal,” said George. “Well, we’ll have to make a move eventually.”
“Great idea,” chided Red. “We’re still eight hours from Junction. God damn it. I told you we should have left that damn book. Could have been there yesterday.”
Neal picked his head up off his shoulder. “That damn book?”
“And you god damn lost that, too. Jesus, Neal, are you-“
“That book?” Neal said, starting to rise. “That book is all I have left-“
“Of what, Neal? Your god damn sanity?” Red said, voice rising.
“That’s enough of that,” boomed George.”
Red shot to his feet. “Getting mad at me? Who, who just sat there while we fixed up that door? Who’s been throwing half his food away ever since we got out of that town? He might as well have rang a god damn dinner bell every step he’s taking, waiting for them to find him.”
“Now that’s god damn enough, Red. You don’t make me tell you twice.” George was on his feet, too. Red looked half a man beside him.
“George, it’s fine,” said Neal.
Red’s hands flew back up. ”See? It’s fine. It’s fine.”
George glowered at him, then sat back down next to Neal.
“Jesus. You know I’m stuck here, too,” said Red. “Look, all I’m saying. We got to be smart out here, Georgie. We don’t got much fuel in the tank already.”
Neal nodded. “He’s right, George. You shouldn’t get all riled up.”
The stillness of the cabin overtook the three, huddled together again.
George chuckled. “You know. I wasn’t cold there, for a second, all riled up.”
Red gave half a smile. “Yeah, well maybe we should take turns.”
“You go next, Red. I’ll go last,” said Neal.
The way they treat someone like a corpse in waiting reminded me of the comment i left about how i always look forward to hte next project. It's less obvious when applied to something not physical like a biological creature.