Confusion swam in his foggy, exhausted mind. Then a single detail registered with aching clarity.
Water.
And cold.
Frigid cold that burned everywhere it touched.
22
Damien’s mind still tried to make sense of what was happening. How could there be water on top of the ice?
As his body dropped farther, reality finally became clear. The ice had cracked under his weight, and the lake water now surged up to his shoulders. He scrambled for the solid edge of the ice.
He had to get out of here. If he stayed in this water long...
Liquid had seeped into his clothing and coat, pulling him down. He fought hard against the weight, finally gripping something strong enough to hold him up. The ice felt thick within his grip, but he knew well enough it could break off if he pulled his full weight on it.
He had to work up onto the ice slowly, then roll away from this broken area. But what if other sections had weakened, too? His body could barely hang on as it was; if he fell again, he may not have the strength to climb back out.
He raised an arm over the ice, stretching as far as he could to spread his weight. The water pulled him down too much. He wouldn’t be able to lift himself up, not with as numb as parts of him had gone.
Something tugged him backward. His coat. Maybe removing the fur would help lighten him enough to climb out of the water.
Even allowing the wet pelt to slide off his body took almost all his energy, as he had to switch the arm gripping the ice. Thank God the edge hadn’t broken any farther yet.
Thank God. It had been so long since he’d ascribed anything good to the Almighty. But if He was up there and cared at all, Damien needed Him now.
He worked a foot up onto a different section of ice. The frozen surface cracked under his weight, dropping his lower body back into the water.
God, please. Help me get out of here.Alive,if you can manage it.
What if he never saw Charlotte again? Would she think he’d chosen not to come? Chosen not to help her?
The thought gave him the strength he needed to try once more, bracing his foot in a different area. The ice seemed stronger there, and by stiffening his body, he managed to lift up out of the water.
He did his best to use the momentum to roll away from the edge. A mound of snow stopped him, and he had to climb up over it. No matter what, he had to find solid ice.
Or rather, had to get off the ice completely.
His body had turned so numb he wasn’t entirely sure his arms and legs did what he commanded. Racking shivers shook him, making his movements even harder to control. But he would get to shore.
He had to get to shore.
As he looked up to find the shortest way to the bank, darkness shrouded every direction. Even the snow seemed nearlyblack. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision. The snow should glow in the moonlight. Yet he could make out no looming shadows that might be the edge of the lake.
God, please. Help!
Why should the Almighty help him now, after Damien had so resolutely turned his back on Him?
I’m sorry for that. For blaming you for Michelle’s death. I understand if you’d rather let me die out here. But if you’d help me make it alive, to Charlotte...
His mind couldn’t find words after that. He’d never been one to bargain with God, had always felt the Lord deserved more respect than that. But if he could only make it out of this alive, he’d like to open communication between them again. Real conversation—not this desperate plea to save a dying man.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then summoned more strength and lifted his head, peering at the landscape around him. The snow seemed whiter now, though there must not be enough moonlight to shimmer off it. He still couldn’t find a dark mound that would signal a bank, but he had to start crawling. If he lay here much longer, the cold from the icy water would consume him.
His knees buckled more than once as he crawled. Convulsions shook his entire body, but he focused on the darkness ahead. There must be land there somewhere.
Get me there, God. Get me there.
