“West tensed his muscles and lay rigid. His face was so cold it was numb and he was grateful for the warmth of Elizabeth’s body lying along the length of his. It was agonizing to move his arm up towards the cold, but he brushed aside a strand of her hair that had fallen across his eyes. He could barely feel his other hand; the only sensation registering in his chilled fingers was the even colder trigger mechanism of the Heckler and Koch. He flexed his hand, only just remembering in time that... the gun was primed. He peered at Elizabeth trying to establish whether her warmth was normal, or signified a feverish rise in temperature. It felt normal, but the air was so cold it was difficult to gauge. He lifted his head. The only light that trickled into their gloomy, makeshift shelter came from beneath the rough metal walls and around the heads of the dead sheep. The one above them appeared to be leering at him, its eyes wide open, glassy in death. He glanced down at his feet and made out the outline of the heads of the other two animals that he’d shot.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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