Determined not to let the opportunity go to waste, we quickly dug the person out of the snow so that he could check the pockets. Once the body was unburied enough, he gave it a tug and realized that this person had been trying to build a shelter, though not a very good one. This must be how they became buried.

He began to search the person’s pockets, when he came to a startling realization. This person was not dead but was breathing softly. His initial instinct was to keep searching the pockets, but then from somewhere deep inside he felt that he needed to try and save this person from certain death.

Grady set to work, pulling an oddly shaped item out of his backpack. This was for making ice blocks out of the snow. There was no way this person would survive the hours long trek back to his shelter, it looked like they would be spending the night here, and likely longer. He also grabbed a blanket from his bag. He took his glove off to feel the clothing, it was dry. This was good, he would leave it on. He quickly wrapped the clothing around this person.

Once he had several bricks placed in the shape of a wall against the prevailing direction of the wind, he set to work making a fire, a skill he had perfected over the past couple of years. Once he had the starter sticks going, he searched around for more wood. He remembered he wasn’t far from the store with lumber. He moved quickly, first as a jog, and then full sprint, fully taking in the urgency of the situation. He wasn’t used to running in these conditions, and it hurt his lungs to do so, but he knew that time was of the essence.

Grady quickly maneuvered his way through the store, with the aid of his flashlight, until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed some of the smaller pieces of lumber and wood, things that were both light and easy enough to snap with his feet. He then turned and ran back, quickly loading the smoldering flames with fresh tinder.

Once he was pleased with the size of the flames he went back to work building the igloo he had started into a circular shape. Well, it wouldn’t be a full-on igloo, he decided not to take the risk of adding a roof, which would complicate things greatly. But it was enough to trap in a substantial portion of the warmth from the fire. He wasn’t sure how long he had been working, but once he placed the final brick, he made sure his newfound friend was at a safe distance from the fire inside the igloo and jumped over the wall. He went back to grab more wood, more substantial this time, and he grabbed a hand saw and an axe for good measure. It took a bit more time for this go around, but he dragged his supplies to the new shelter.

When he was most of the way back, he saw something sitting beside the igloo on the outside. As he got closer, he could see that it was his gun. How could he have been so foolish? In his panicked state he had thrown all caution to the wind. But it didn’t matter now anyway. He needed to work on getting his friend warmed up.

He pulled the boards he brought up next to the outside of his makeshift shelter, staying within range of his shotgun, and began working on cutting the boards into more manageable pieces. And then he split a few of the smaller boards into kindling. Now he was building a respectable fire. He continued working for some time, he couldn’t be sure for how long, until he had finished sawing and splitting the boards. He jumped inside the shelter and made a pile of wood near the fire. He figured he had enough to last the night, and he would go back in the morning to get more.

It was at this moment he collapsed beside the fire. He realized that he had not pushed his body to move this fast in quite some time, and for good reasons in these awful conditions. After taking a bit of time to catch his breath, he moved himself closer to his still unconscious companion. He could see that his friend was breathing more deeply now. He finally had a chance to examine this person more closely.

Examining the face more closely, he comes to the realization that this may be a woman. He verifies his suspicion by lightly touching her chest. He takes a closer look now. He can see that her lips are cracked, and her skin is pale and stretched thin over sharp cheekbones, probably either with frostnip or frostbite. Her hair is a tangled mess of dark auburn, matted with ice and dirt, falling in uneven strands across her face. It is clear she hasn’t had the luxury of grooming or warmth for a long time. Her eyes are closed, lashes frosted, but beneath them are deep hollows that speak of hunger, exhaustion, and long nights that were likely spent alone.

Grady estimates that she must be in her early thirties, and he can see the beauty that has been hidden by the rough years of survival since “The Event”.  He can’t help but wonder about her story. What was she doing out here alone? Or perhaps more pressing, was she even actually alone? He hugged his gun more tightly to himself at the prospect of others, could they be hostile?

He began patting her body, finding only a small knife on her as a potential weapon. He was sure once she woke up, she might be in a panicked state, so he decided he would confiscate the knife for the time being. The color was starting to return to her face, and the breathing seemed to be returning to a more normal rhythm, which was a good sign. She might survive this event after all.

Grady scanned through the contents of his backpack. He had several small water bottles, which was certainly better than trying to melt the snow. Yes, melting the snow was a last resort, God only knows what was contained in that water. He also had the snacks he had grabbed from the other store, and some frozen meat he had packed just in case. He pulled out a small pan that could be used on the fire in case he needed to cook anything. The only thing he really had to worry about was a storm.

It was getting quite dark out, but he squinted at the sky anyways. As best he could tell there was no storm moving in, which was good news for him and his female companion. He gazed over at her and was glad that her condition appeared to be improving. Satisfied and tired, he leaned his back against the wall of the makeshift shelter as the dark creeped over the two of them.

---

“Get up!” Sabine Rell said, almost screaming.

“Huh? What? What is going on?” A dazed Grady replied.

“I said get up!” Sabine said, pointing Grady’s own gun at him.

It took a few moments for Grady to piece together what was going on. Apparently, he had drifted off to sleep from exhaustion when he had laid his back against the wall. He could see the fire was still going, and it was more than merely hot coals, so he couldn’t have been asleep too long he figured. He stood up as instructed, staring down the barrel of his shotgun. He knew he shouldn’t have extended kindness in these times. It was every man … and woman, for themselves.

As he looked around, still a bit bewildered, he thought to himself how could he have been so foolish? This is something he could have easily seen coming.

“What do you want with me?” Sabine asked.

“Wh… wh… what do you mean?” Grady asked in reply, still in a state of shock about the situation.

“I mean, what were you planning to do to me?”

“I was trying to save your life, isn’t that obvious?” Grady responded in a gruff tone.

“No, that isn’t obvious. Do you think we still live in normal times? Are you that naïve?”

“Look, no one could survive this if they treated it like normal times. The only thing I wanted was to make sure you were OK. I couldn’t have it on my conscience leaving you here to die.”

“Are you serious? There are still people around who do things based on their conscience?” Sabine asked rhetorically, while lowering the gun.

Grady sprung into action when the gun was lowered, jumping over to grab the barrel and rip it from Sabine’s hands, which were still weak from her near-death experience. He quickly turned the gun back on her.

“Now you sit down, and I don’t want any more trouble from you.” Grady said.

Sabine did as instructed, startled at how quickly the tides had turned. But if she was honest, it felt good to sit. Her body was still weak, and she still felt quite tired.

Grady sat down on the other side of the igloo, with his gun still trained on Sabine.

“I am not looking for any trouble. I was just looking to keep you alive. Please don’t try anything stupid.  ­—What is your name anyway?” Grady asked.

“Sabine, Sabine Rell,” Sabine replied honestly. Did it matter if he knew her real name in these times? What was he going to do, steal her credit?

“I wish I could say nice to meet you Sabine, but this hasn’t been all that fun for me. I could be home right now.”

Sabine relaxed a bit more. Though the gun was trained on her, she didn’t feel in immediate danger. She stared into the fire for a while and came to the realization that if this man wanted her dead, he could have just left her for dead. She still couldn’t be sure of his motives, which could be potentially bad, but there was something about him that allowed her to trust him for the time being. And what choice did she have? She was in no shape to fight him.

After a long silence Sabine asked:

“What is your name?”

“Grady”

“Do you have a last name, or is that all I get?”

“Why is it that women always have to pry? Vance is my last name” Grady said in his typical gruff manor.

Sabine soaked it in for a moment. Then something hit her, she was near Washington D.C. right now.

“Wait a minute, you’re Grady Vance? Like the Grady Vance?”