The Thaw

The adrenaline faded, but the strength remained.

Leo stood over the corpse of the monster, the blizzard whipping his hair around his face. He looked at his hands. They weren't shaking. They were steady.

He looked down at his leg. The jeans were torn, revealing the skin. The tibia was straight. The bruising was fading before his eyes, the cells knitting together, fueled by the cold.

* We survive,* Boreas whispered. The voice was quiet now, receding into the back of his mind, a dormant reserve of power. *We always survive.*

"Yes," Leo said aloud.

He saw lights in the distance. Twin beams cutting through the whiteout. The rumble of a diesel engine.

A snowplow.

Leo walked to the center of the road. He didn't wave frantically. He stood tall, bathed in the headlights.

The plow ground to a halt. The driver, a burly man in a parka, jumped out, looking terrified.

"Holy hell, kid!" the driver shouted over the wind. "I saw the wreck! Are you okay? You're not wearing a coat!"

Leo looked at the wrecked Subaru, then at the mound of snow where the monster lay buried, invisible to the driver.

He looked at the driver and smiled. It wasn't the shy, apologetic smile of the medical student. It was a calm, dangerous smile.

"I'm fine," Leo said. The cold air filled his lungs, sharp and sweet. "I've never been better."

He climbed into the warm cab of the truck, leaving the fear frozen in the ice at Mile 44. He was safe. And for the first time in his life, he knew he was dangerous enough to stay that way.