The long night passed without incident. Miller and Sean traded off minding the fire a couple times, but Sean bore the brunt of the watch. He decided to let Abi rest as much as possible considering she was still recovering from unknown injuries. He was on watch again as dawn approached, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he nodded off, exhausted.

He awoke with a shiver, disoriented, fearful, wondering how long he had been asleep. It was freezing in the cabin, his own breath hung in the air before him. The fire had gone out and the sound of wind rushing through trees filled the cabin. He did not recall hearing that sound the during the night.

Snow swirled in through the gap in the door turning the cabin into an industrial age snowglobe. It was an unwelcomed shift in the weather and it altered any plans he had designed for the day. It was the worst possible time for a winter storm. No one would be leaving the runner. Trapped again.

Trey roused first to Sean's surprise, he was frightfully pale and his renown cocksure attitude was entirely absent. He was just a shell now, a facsimile, the other Trey got left somewhere back in Meta. He shivered under the tarp and looked around through half-opened eyes. He looked smaller somehow, scared and vulnerable.

"Thirsty," was all he could manage to say. Sean provided him with the last of the water from the previous evening, which they had set aside. Trey got a couple swallows down before a fit of coughing took hold.

"I can't get more snow to boil, but as soon as the others wake up we'll get some. How are you feeling?" Trey just shook his head and sipped some more water. "You should also try to eat something."

"Can't."

"Try this, it was in Nine's pack. It's some kind of gel food supplement." Sean opened the small tube and lifted it to Trey's lips. With a bit of a struggle Trey emptied the tube and washed the sickly sweet goo down with the last of the water. "It's okay to get some more rest, I had a plan to get you some help, but looks like we are going to have to sit tight for a while. We get things warmed up soon." Trey nodded slowly, then slumped back and closed his eyes. Sean realized the situation would quickly become dire if they didn't get the fire going again.

Soon thereafter Miller awoke, then Abi. They both stretched beneath the tarp and rubbed their eyes.

"Why is it so cold?" Miller asked still half asleep.

"I don't think we can go out in this." Abi said as she peered outside. "It's a blizzard out there."

"Not for long at least." Sean replied. "You and Miller will have to grab more wood, a lot more. It's not going to be easy to keep it warm in here. As long as we can keep the fire up, we can melt snow for water. There's not a lot of food so we'll have to ration that as best we can."

"What about Trey?" Miller asked with a grim look.

"I know. Just keep him warm, and comfortable. We'll try to get him to drink when he's awake. But there is no way anyone can go for help until this weather breaks. One thing at a time though, we need wood. Do not stay out there long and do not lose sight of the runner, or stay near the tracks so you can follow them back. And stick together."

Miller and Abi both nodded in agreement. Neither relished the idea of spending any time outside in the current conditions. Miller slid the door open and jumped out, Abi followed close behind.

"We'll have to find a way to close up the gap in the door." He said. "Too much draft. I will see what we can do when I get back."

"Maybe we can wedge pine boughs in it." Sean offered.

"Maybe."

Miller and Abi trudged off through the blinding storm. Sean watched them disappear into the white fury of the Interim. Then he watched as the wind and snow obliterated their footprints, leaving no trace they were ever there. A sense of desolation crept into the runner like a bank of fog, an impenetrable and all-encompassing doom.

To Sean's great relief they both returned after a few tense minutes with their first arm loads of wood. It was a good start, but the storm seemed to increase its intensity minute by minute and they had more to gather still.

Both were shivering uncontrollably, their only protection from the elements was their yellow coveralls from the detention centre. They were quickly reaching the limits of their endurance.

"I can only make one more trip." Abi admitted through chattering teeth.

"Same here." Replied Miller. "My hands barely work."

"Make it quick, just grab what you can, we will have to make due. If the storm lets up you can make another trip out for more." Sean said.

They disappeared again into the unforgiving storm. This time they followed the tracks, it was the only way to avoid getting lost with absolute certainty. Fuel for the fire was plentiful, finding it was not the problem, if you could endure the cold long enough. The weather was the limiting factor and it forced them back to the runner with less wood then they would have liked.

They unloaded their arms into the railrunner before climbing aboard themselves. It was not enough wood, not by half, but it would have to suffice. Sean worked on coaxing the fire back to life while Miller attended to the gap in the door.

Twenty minutes later they had a reasonable fire and almost no draft. They boiled more water and made another coffee and snacked on small rationed portions of food. All the while the snow fell and the wind howled just beyond the bare metal walls of their confines.

Sean shook Trey awake and forced him to eat and drink a little. Trey did not speak, other than moan, and immediately shut his eyes again. Sean rifled through all the kits one more time, but it was futile, there just wasn't anything else of use. He felt guilty about using one of the pain patches for himself, but he couldn't even think clearly himself. The ankle injury was excruciating.

At least Miller and Abi were no longer shivering. Everyone was tucked under the blankets once more. It was all they could do, feed the fire, feed themselves and survive for as long as possible.

In the back of Sean's mind, he knew they couldn't last much longer. A couple days maybe, they would be out of food, with no way to get more. It could get more difficult to find burnable wood with the snow and if the weather didn't improve... He gave them a week. If they couldn't find a way to get away from the runner, they would be dead in a week. He was certain of it. He kept this knowledge to himself.

In the distance, something howled. Distinctly different from the wind, something feral, something unknown. Not buried in the wind, but born upon it, it was real and they all heard it.

"What was that?" Miller asked.

"I'm not sure." Sean replied honestly. He listened for it, but it didn't repeat. He thought their ears might just be playing tricks on them. Or was that wishful thinking? He could hear nothing but the unrelenting gale. "Maybe nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

They listened for a while, but the sound never repeated. Everyone relaxed a little and went about finding ways to keep the boredom at bay.

To pass the time, Sean looked over the collection of maps he found. There was no way he could get a bearing on where they might be, but the maps were interesting anyway. It took his mind off other things.

Abi was occupied with Daniel's netpod. She hoped to find more information that might fill the gap between his purported death and their painfully brief reunion. She wasn't finding much, but she kept looking anyway, for the same reason Sean stared at the maps.

Miller had the old, broken railrunner radio stripped into a hundred tiny pieces. He had no illusions about getting it to work, but it kept him busy.

Clang!

Something hard hit the door. Abi scrambled for the far side of the cabin, Sean pulled a burning stick from the fire and brandished it like a club, Miller armed himself with a screwdriver. They all froze, stone-still and breathless.

"Hey! Anyone in there?"

After a pause, Sean answered. "Yes."

The door slid open and there stood a solitary figure, his fur-lined hood concealing his face. For a moment, he just stood there as the wind ravaged the cabin, dousing the fire and threatening to tear the canvas tarp from their hands. Then he pulled himself up inside and pulled the door part way closed to keep the wind at bay before peeling back his hood.

"Sorry if I startled you." He apologized as he looked the group over. "You all seem a little worse for wear. Especially this fella over here." He added when he noticed Trey.

The man was unshaven, middle-aged, and stout but not tall. Even with the winter clothes on he appeared to be solidly built. He had a rifle slung on his back and had grey-blue eyes, intense yet friendly. He picked at his ice-encrusted moustache momentarily.

Then he headed straight for Trey and after a quick check he said, "He's in rough shape, we need to get him on the sled now. I can't help him here."

"Sled?" Milled started.

"Yes. But I can't get you all on it, so you and the young lady will have to walk. Just a minute." He jumped back out of the runner and disappeared for a few moments leaving the three to exchange blank looks with each other.

He returned with a warm jacket for Miller, a blanket for Abi. And a couple fur-lined hats.

"I'll splint your ankle." He said to Sean. "You will go on the sled first, and the wounded guy next. You will have to hold him so he doesn't fall out."

Once he had Sean's ankle immobilized -- a grueling procedure -- he asked Miller to help him move Sean to the sled. With Sean slung between the two they hobbled around the back of the runner. There in the blowing snow stood two massive, jet-black wolf-like animals secured to a large sled. They stood perfectly still except their fur which was driven this way and that by the wind like waves on the ocean.

They remained eerily frozen and silent the entire time Sean was loaded, as if in a trance. Their large ears stood erect, portraying alertness although they gave no indication of hearing any of the activity going on around them. Miller almost ran his fingers through their fur as he passed, but thought better of it at the last minute.

They had to all but carry Trey, but they got him to the sled as well. Then they wrapped the two in the emergency blankets and tarp. Finally they lashed it all down to keep everything from blowing away and kept the injured from tumbling out of the sled.

Once everyone was organized, the man mounted the back of the sled and addressed the group.

"It's a fair walk to my place, let me know if you tire and we can stop for a break, but not too long, your friend here needs medical attention. Shout if you fall behind, you do not want to get left out here alone." Then he addressed the dogs, "Rex, go."

The dogs muscled the over-burdened sled forward like draught horses until they reached a reasonable walking pace.

They must be incredibly strong to pull so much weight with such apparent ease, thought Sean.

Abi and Miller followed close behind, struggling a bit with the wind, snow and uneven ground. The extra clothes provided some relief from the cold, but soon enough Abi's teeth were chattering all the same. Her and Miller locked arms in an effort to stay warm and upright.

No one complained or fell behind on the long hike and after forty bone-chilling minutes the snow let up, but not the biting wind. They crested a small hill and came into sight of the residence of their rescuer. A few hundred acres of snow-covered field spread out around a farmstead that consisted of a small rubble-work house a number of small outbuildings and one large pole barn.

Most of the outbuildings were geodesic domes and a couple were what appeared to be rickety wooden sheds. They crossed the field, and pulled up to the house, the man pushed a button on the sled handle and released the dogs, they immediately ran off with a third smaller dog that appeared to have been awaiting their return.

It took a few trips to get everyone inside, Sean found himself on a slightly musty, old chesterfield, across from him lay Trey on a similar couch. Their rescuer wasted no time in re-dressing Trey's wounds and then hooked him up to an IV to deliver some sort of fluids.

A pair of armchairs framed a fireplace at the far end of the room, in it a fire burned low and smokey, needing attendance. Otherwise the room was warm and cosy. A large picture hung over Sean's couch, a winter scene of children playing hockey on a pond. Above Trey's couch was a large, antique-looking map, yellowed with age.

"I'm going to need to get someone over here to take a look at him," the man said as he cut away Trey's clothes with a pair of scissors. "I think I have him stabilized for now. You'll probably need someone to look at you too." He added turning to Sean. "I think your foot will need a cast."

The old man ruminated a bit as he stoked the fire back to life and added a log.

"You all look tired, but you're safe now, you can relax. There are plenty of blankets and pillows to make yourselves comfortable. Two of you will have to sleep on the floor. There is a bathroom right around the corner here. If you need anything else, just holler. I'm sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to stay confined to this room for a while. For your own safety." He turned and doused an oil lamp plunging the room into darkness, save the amber light of the fire. As he began up the stairs he said in a paternal tone without turning, "Get some rest."

Sean awoke suddenly, someone had bumped into him as he slept. "Sorry dear," a female voice in the dark said. Sean could make out a silhouette bending over Trey who now had an IV tree with several bags hung on it.

"Who are you?" Sean asked groggily.

"I'm the doctor in these parts, and as soon as I am done with your friend here, I am going to take a look at you." She replied.

Sean tried to adjust his aching foot to a more comfortable position, but by the time he got it where he wanted it, the doctor was done with Trey. She went right to work. Sean found her manner curt and polite, it reminded him of some of the nurses at the hospital.

She asked Sean a few questions, while prodding his ankle then gave him a shot of something, he didn't remember drifting off.

When he awoke again, it was morning, someone had lit a couple oil lamps, the room was filled with soft, yellow light and the smell of paraffin. Miller and Abi were up, talking quietly near the fire. Sean then noticed his foot was in some sort of immobilization device, white plastic with stainless steel hardware. It looked quite different from similar things he had seen at the hospital, but his foot did feel a bit better.

"How's everyone doing?" He asked.

"We're pretty good," Abi answered right away. "And Trey looks a lot better, but he's still out. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He replied. His stomach grumbled, "But hungry!"

As if in answer their rescuer came clunking down the steps with three large steaming bowls of oatmeal, the smaller of the dogs followed at his heel. He placed the bowls on the table between the sofas. The oatmeal was topped with peach slices, and Sean's nose detected a hint of cinnamon, his mouth began to water as he eyed the nearest bowl.

"There's more if you finish this," the man stated, matter-of-fact, "who wants coffee?"

All their hands shot up instantly. Without another word, the man checked a small device that was hooked up to Trey and returned upstairs. The dog lingered for a moment, head-raised sniffing at the air, then followed its master's lead. The three wasted no time in devouring the food, all the bowls were scraped clean by the time the man returned with the coffees on a tray.

"Hungry, eh?" He said with a hint of a smile, "I'll get some more."

Abi appear to be the only one who had not completely lost her manners and said, "Thank-you" as he took her bowl.

"You're welcome." he answered with a kind smile.

Sean sat up on the couch making room for the others to get off the floor and they enjoyed their coffee in silence. The man again returned with more oatmeal and left as soon as he put the bowls down.

"He doesn't say much." Miller observed.

"Well, we are kind of strangers in his house." Sean reasoned. "At least I think we are safe for the moment. Unless he finds out we're fugitives from Meta, then he'll likely toss us out."

"You think so?" Abi said.

"I don't know. Wouldn't you?"

She shrugged and sipped her coffee.

"Let's just hope he doesn't find out then." Miller added.

A few days passed. The routine was fairly simple, their host brought them food, but not much conversation. They each got to take a shower and clean themselves up, the old man even provided some extra clothes and discarded the overalls.

They passed the time talking, reading some old books and resting. The books were interesting for they were a very rare commodity back in Meta. These old tomes were like nothing any of them had ever read.

They stretched their legs by wandering around in the basement. Sean noticed that that smaller dog seemed to be perpetually on guard at the top of the stairs. It did not bark or growl, it just watched, in a way it reminded Sean of the drones back in Meta.

Miller found a large locked door down one of the hallways which intrigued him, but he left it alone.

The food was never extravagant, but it was always tasty and they weren't going hungry. Even Trey came around enough to be filled in on what had happened.

The lady nurse-practitioner also returned one evening to check up on everyone. Abi struck up a conversation and learned that her name was Fossy and that she was the only real medical professional for a hundred kilometers or so.

Fossy looked like she may be in her sixties with short grey hair and bangs that framed her full, rosy cheeks. She was short and rather round, with a kind demeanor and a quick wit. She was most pleased to see Trey awake, she reduced the number of IVs to two and lectured him at length on how to change his own dressings and when to take his antibiotics.

When she left she gave Abi a hug and pinched Miller's cheek in a grandmotherly way and promised to check up again in a week or so. Other than that they saw no one other than their host.

The next day, the old man brought a gift for Sean, a pair of crutches that appeared to be homemade. Sean tried to thank him, but he just waved him off and said, "Don't mention it."

Out of the blue, he invited them all upstairs for dinner that evening. When the time came, they proceeded upstairs. Sean was not surprised to see that dog sitting at the top, but it did nothing but watch as the group made their way up and into the dinning room.

They sat around a large and well-worn harvest table, in mismatched high-back wood chairs. The dinner was excellent; roast mutton with potatoes, yams and a creamy leek soup. They even enjoy a couple glasses of red wine with the meal. Again, other than pleasantries, the conversation was sparse, until they were nearly done and the old man got up to put on a pot of coffee. What he said startled the entire group.