I tune the radio, a man repeats over and over, *Las-t Tr-in -on- hour! One -our! W-ll Rep-at!* I look past the cracked windshield and find my way, slowly but surely. Several honks blare behind me. I drive faster, but they're catching up.

I look at my left mirror and a bullet cracks it. I hunch over as bullets ping off the back of the truck. One car topples over and the other bumps into the back of mine, the force slams my head against the wheel. I grab at my nose, blood covers my arm. A bear walks into the road and stands on it's back legs. I swerve around him and brake hard. A loud crash comes from behind.

I look back and cover my mouth, the bear's arms are in the air. Where's the other truck? A loud crash comes from the front. I turn, the other truck landed on it's roof, windshield broken. I slam on the gas, but I'm not moving! The bear groans as I put it reverse. The truck bounces over the bear and he gets up. He roars, I stare him down, let my nose run red as I rev the truck.

He gets on all fours and roars again, I shout at the top of my lungs and match his tone, "Fuck offfffff!" He stares for a moment, then groans and walks away. I breathe heavy and wipe my face. I look down and break into tears. Can I just have one fucking break!? I stare off as the heat blasts from the engine. I slow my breathing as blood trickles down my mouth. I wipe my mouth and rub the steering wheel. I stretch a little and step on the gas again.

The wheels vibrate, wild on the road, where the blizzard never ends. Past the cracked windshield, the blizzard can't hide the lights in the distance. *L-st Tra-n Le-ving i- a- min--* The engine cries, "Come on! Not now!" The truck coasts to a stop. "No! No! Damn it!"

I bang my fists on the steering wheel, then slam my head onto the horn. A train horn lifts my head. It's leaving. The heat cuts off, the windshield's crack spreads, the windshield violently shatters from the cold gusts of wind. I cover my face, The glass, strong wind and snow stab my at my arm, my face. Lemonade on a cut. My last hope to leave is gone.

Yet another replaces it, I step out the truck and trudge ahead, "Warmth." Why me? I limp in the tall snow towards a lit house in the distance. I lean against the door and turn the knob. No light greets me. But it WAS lit, right?

I fall in and grunt, so cold. I crawl towards the fireplace and someone mumbles, "Been a while." I turn my head, it's my old man. "I-" When did I stop shivering? How long did I even walk for? I cant feel anything. I drop to the floor, crawl towards the fireplace. "There are no cowards in my family!"

The fireplace is home to some logs and kindling. I'm gonna die, so close to another day. I slam my arm down and pull my body- Crawl for dear life. "We're fighters, Grandpa stormed the beaches of Normandy! I helped America secure Ferron for the good of everyone!" He flicks a lighter and picks my hand up. "Now it's your turn!" He puts the flame to my hand, like he used to.

I hear a snap and my thumb is on fire. The fire catches the kindling and the warmth blows at me in waves. My hand falls, still in the fire. I try not to eyes close, eventually I just embrace it.