10. Dev

Huddling with Ward and Hallie kept the worst of the cold at bay, but it was still far too tempting to close my eyes. My glasses weren't sitting right, so my vision was blurry—thank you, astigmatism—and my nose ached, a low-level annoyance until I forgot myself and sniffed. Then the pain flared, jolting through me like a lightning bolt. Those flashes for sure kept me awake and aware, but as it got colder, the pain subsided somewhat.

We heard a couple of big rigs go by, but neither made any effort to stop. I figured we were farther off the road than I'd first thought, or covered by enough snow that the trucks' lights didn't pick up any glint of metal as they passed. Either that or the drivers thought we were an old wreck, waiting for the weather to clear or dawn to break before being retrieved from the ditch.

When a third rig went by without even slowing down, I met Ward's gaze. Hallie was dozing between us, but I was okay with that—our combined body heat was keeping her warm enough that it was safe for her to do so. But the cold was seeping through my back, and the tiredness I felt was definitely due more to impending hypothermia than coziness. I had an emergency kit in the truck bed, complete with a blanket and other winter essentials, but "had" was the operative word. The tonneau cover had popped off the truck bed as it rolled and I had to assume the kit was buried in the snow somewhere. Maybe close by, but maybe not, and searching for it was a losing proposition.

I was going to have to leave the relative warmth of the truck, though.

When I spoke, I kept my voice low so I didn't startle Hallie, and I concentrated to stop my teeth from chattering. "I'm gonna need to wave the next semi down."

"You got a schedule of when it'll be by?" Ward shot back. I grimaced, because no, of course I didn't. "Did the text go through yet?"

It had failed three times already, but I was still trying every few minutes. Ward's phone had yet to show a single bar of service. "No. I'm g-gonna requisition a s-satellite phone after this."

"And get emergency services activated on your tr-truck." He scowled. Yeah, it hadn't been a fun revelation to remember that I hadn't turned that feature on…though it might not have worked anyway, since it depended on the connection through my phone.

"N-next time I suggest continuing to drive after dark in the w-winter, remind me of this, eh?" I tried to smile, but it was difficult. This situation was not good. Probably the worst I'd ever been in, and that was counting the time I was guiding a fishing expedition and the boat sank, stranding me and my two customers on a random, uninhabited island in the middle of Lake Superior.

Yeah, there was a reason I wasn't a fishing guide anymore. At least it had been summer then, and I'd had a radio to call for help.

"But seriously, Ward, I've got to do something."

"Leaving the truck m-might be suicide."

"Normally, I'd agree with you whole-wholeheartedly. But staying in the truck might not be any better, not if no one's stopped yet."

He stared at me for what felt like a long time, his forehead bearing the lines of his sour mood. I didn't blame him—I wanted to go out there about as much as he wanted me to, but what choice did we have? Hallie might be the best suited for this weather—if she could control her powers, which was a big if—but I wasn't willing to risk her, and clearly Ward wasn't either. Out of the two of us, I was the next best option. I was used to Ontario winter. I mean, I'd still freeze the same as anyone else if I was left out in it too long, but I would probably be able to stand the cold longer than Ward would.

"Okay." I mentally prepared myself to exit the shelter of the truck. This wasn't going to be fun, or easy, but I could do it. I had to.

Ward ripped the hat off his head and tossed it to me. "Here."

"I have one."

"And now you have two. Put it on."

This time, when I smiled, it came more naturally. He hadn't said anything about our, uh, interlude this morning, but there hadn't been time for us to talk. Though, did we need to? We were consenting single adults, it was fun, and it would be great to do it again, but not necessary. As far as I was concerned, it was all good.

I kind of suspected Ward might feel differently, considering he hadn't been with anyone in five freaking years.

But, anyway, the little gesture of giving me his toque said volumes about who he was. I liked grumpy-but-soft-and-mushy Ward. I doubted many people saw his gooey insides.

Wait…that went somewhere I didn't mean for it to go.

"Be c-careful," he said as I maneuvered around to get to the broken window. Before I could lift the airbag out of the way, he grabbed my arm. "I mean it."

"Yes, boss."

He huffed out a breath but let go.

All right. Time to brace myself. I started a mental countdown. One, two—

"You see that?" Hallie asked sleepily.

Ward grabbed my arm again and I stopped. Turning, I saw what Hallie had spotted—flashing red and blue lights, barely visible through the truck's rear window.

"Thank fucking god," Ward said.

"Ditto," Hallie said.

"Three-o," I added. Then I wrinkled my nose. "You know this means we all have to go out in the cold now." Pulling Ward's toque off my head, I handed it back to him. "You're gonna need this."

"Thanks." Was that a tiny smile?

Well, I guessed imminent rescue would lift anyone's mood.

Ward and I got a ride to the nearest hospital—back in North Bay—via ambulance, and as our charge, Hallie got to travel with us. The cops promised they'd meet us at the hospital to take our statements rather than make us hang around the accident scene for any longer than necessary, and I was thankful for their thoughtfulness.

Once at the ER, they separated us. Ward went off to one bed, I went off to another, and Hallie was asked to wait in the sitting area. I tried to minimize how much I spoke—nurses had a hard enough time without feeling the urge to bend over backwards to be nice to me. I hated that I came across as surly and unfriendly, but it was better than the alternative, in my opinion. Eventually, after they'd poked and prodded me, taken X-rays and set my nose—ow—someone pushed the curtain aside. I expected to see a doctor, but instead, it was Ward and Hallie.

I let out a shaky breath, surprised at how good it was to see them. Even if I couldn't see much without my glasses, which had disappeared somewhere. "Everything check out?" I asked Ward.

"They were a little concerned that I'd whacked my head after having the mini stroke." He rolled his eyes. "But I'm fine. I've got a bruise on my temple, and that's it. You're the one who suffered the worst of it."

"At least they got the blood out of your beard," Hallie said. "That was kinda gross."

I couldn't argue with that.

"Are they planning on keeping you for observation or anything?"

I started to shake my head, then remembered that wasn't a good idea. Even with my nose set and a good dose of ibuprofen on board, my whole face ached. "They're going to discharge me. We're only waiting for the papers."

"Good," Ward said on a sigh. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the curtain was drawn back again, this time to reveal a pair of uniformed Ontario Provincial Police constables. I recognized both from the accident scene.

"Hello again," Constable Mata said. She was shorter than average, and her weight was difficult to tell under her uniform parka, but she seemed petite. A toque with an OPP crest covered her hair, but a brown wisp had come loose from the bun at the nape of her neck. There were two pink spots on her pale brown cheeks, which told me the weather hadn't gotten any better in the time we'd been stuck in the ER.

Her partner was a broad-shouldered white man, about my height and weight. I hadn't gotten his name earlier, and I certainly couldn't read his name badge now without my glasses. He gave us a nod of greeting. "Glad to see you're all doing well."

"Thanks," I said.

"Is there anything you need? The doctors are treating you well?" Puzzlement flashed across his features, and I knew he had to be wondering why he felt the sudden urge to be nice to me. I truly wished I could turn off my powers sometimes.

"We wanted to get your statements, if we could?" Mata pulled out a notepad.

I glanced at Ward, and he gave a subtle nod. Relaxing back into the bed, I let him do the talking. There wasn't much to say beyond "Dev swerved to avoid a moose," but I understood that the constables needed to get whatever details they could for their report.

Mata flipped her notepad closed. "All right. Pretty straightforward, as we thought. You did well not to hit the moose, Mr. Campbell."

I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Was it one of the truckers who called it in?" Ward asked. "We didn't think anyone had seen us off in the ditch, since a few trucks passed without stopping."

Mata opened her notepad again, licked her thumb, and flipped through a couple of pages. "No, I don't believe it was a trucker…or, at least, he didn't identify himself as such. Dispatch did say he made a point of mentioning his name more than once, though, which struck them as odd."

My gut tightened. "Oh?"

"Yeah, here it is. Crimson. Jeffrey Crimson."

Ward froze, and I whipped my gaze to him, ignoring how the sudden movement made my face ache. He'd been pale before, from stress and fatigue, but now his skin had a gray tinge to it.

"Crimson?" he managed, his voice whisper-gruff.

And it clicked. That was the name April had mentioned when Ward had his panic attack at the diner. Doctor Crimson.

He met my gaze. "Call April."