Mako's Message: So. Here we are again. Hope that those of you who followed this story enjoy the update, and those of you who are new to the story have been enjoying the story so far.

I would like to say that I could have gone on for a couple thousand more words, but it seemed like a good place to stop...and I need something to do with the next chapter. Which, hopefully, won't take as long to work it's way out of my brain and on to your screens.

Enjoy!

If Owen had been in any mood to appreciate it, he would have acknowledged the beauty of the frozen, snow covered, forest. The snow was almost completely pure and undisturbed, leaving a stark white background for the black barked trees. Branches were covered in snow and ice, with icicles dangling down, sometimes for several feet, reflecting and refracting the light making the world sparkle like it had been encrusted with diamonds.

All Owen saw was Hell. Hell frozen over. A bleak, blank, blinding and bitingly cold existence in which every moment was torture with no end in sight.

His feet were cold, and for that he was thankful because if there was one thing he knew about surviving in the cold, it was that if you stopped feeling the cold, you were already dead. His cheeks stung terribly, as the odd tear still managed to streak across his face, threatening to freeze before he was able to wipe them away. He was tired, and his muscles ached from dragging Abby's trunk behind him through the snow. He had considered abandoning it to make better time, but as far as he knew he was heading in the opposite direction from anything that could provide him shelter so leaving the trunk, his only shelter from the cold, behind would be a death sentence. His stomach begged for food, but he only had the few snacks that had been packed for what was expected to be a short and simple journey by train. Only a few candy bars, a bottle of soda, and half a bottle of milk remained. He'd eaten the sandwich, the only real food he'd bought aside from the milk, for breakfast hours ago and was now wishing he'd saved some of it.

He staved off hunger by eating snow by the handful. It didn't help him feel any warmer, even letting it melt in his mouth before swallowing didn't lessen it's chilling effect. His mouth felt nearly numb. It did, however, manage to put enough liquid into his stomach to stop the hunger pains.

He kept walking, not knowing what else to do and figuring that anywhere he went couldn't be much worse than here and was starting to regret not following the train tracks. Police or no police.

And yet, he still didn't want to go home. It was that that most likely drove him to continue into the mountains. Knowing that if the police caught him, he'd either go to jail or be sent back to his mother. And the part that scared him the most was that he didn't know which would be worse. His life had been nothing but loneliness and torment. Even if Kenny and the rest were dead. It wouldn't be any better. He'd be "that kid". Whispered about and pointed out.

Abby had given him a way out. And even without her, he knew he still had a chance, but only if he kept moving forward.

When night fell, and the world turned from sparkling diamonds to black and shades of blue, Owen was finally able to acknowledge the beauty around him. But this only caused him more pain because the thought following immediately after that was "I wish Abby could see this."

He ate a bit from a Snickers, buried himself under the clothes in the trunk, and cried himself to asleep.

.oO1Oo.

The next day he didn't want to get up. It was almost warm under the clothes in the trunk and he wanted nothing more than to just stay there, be warm, and not go walking through the snow covered mountains.

Eventually, he did manage to talk himself into getting out of the trunk. It was more a desire to not pee on himself than to actually go anywhere, but since was up and out he kept moving and dragging the trunk along with him.

He ate the rest of the Snickers as he walked. Very slowly. He did his best to make it last as long as possible, but he was sure he'd taken his last bite before an hour was up.

He still had no idea where he was going. He just kept heading north and following the path of least resistance. Eventually, he found a stream that he started to follow, which lead him to some bushes with small red berries on them. Aside from the berries, the bushes were completely bare. He had no idea if they were safe to eat, but the thought of more candy was actually making him ill at this point.

He sat there, staring at the bush for so long and so quietly that a deer came up to the bush and ate a few of the berries, not ten feet from him.

That was good enough for him and practically ran to the bush and started gobbling down the berries as quickly as he could. They were kind of hard, and slightly bitter, but he was beyond caring at this point. He ate until he couldn't eat anymore and then ate some snow to wash it down.

He felt better, having food in his stomach, and set off again with a slightly better outlook on the situation.

He got about a mile through the forest before the pain started.

At first it was just a slight cramp and he figured it was just from eating and drinking so much and then exerting himself. But the cramping got worse, eventually becoming stabbing pains that caused him to wince and nearly collapse. He caught himself on a tree and gritted his teeth until the pain subsided. He started again, only to be struck by the pain again. And then again, and again. He stumbled from tree to tree for almost a quarter mile before the pain stopped subsiding at all.

Then, with a loud gurgle, he stood bolt upright, still in pain but with something far more urgent on his mind. He desperately looked around, but found nothing that would help, and with a second gurgle from deep within his guts, he yanked his pants down and squatted just as his bowels opened up like a floodgate.

It smelled horrible, even for shit, and it burned as it came out.

He stayed there for a full five minutes before he felt sure that it was over and, after a moments hesitation, pulled his pants up and continued on. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences in his young life, but he felt much better and was eager to hurry forward and find help before he had to attempt foraging for food again.

Unfortunately, the ordeal repeated itself again a half hour later, and every half hour after for the rest of the day.

By the time night fell, Owen was weak, pale, sweating, exhausted, and barely able to stand let alone drag the trunk any further. He lifted the lid and fell into it, letting the lid slam shut on it's own. He prayed that his poisoning had run it's course, because he didn't know if he'd be able to climb out of Abby's trunk fast enough.

.oO2Oo.

He didn't sleep well that night at all. He didn't have to relieve himself during the night, but he was uncomfortably warm, to the point that he even considering opening lid, and his dreams were bizarre at best and nightmarish at worst.

Blood was prominent in all of them. Though not always in a bad way. One featured Abby gently stroking his hair as his head rested in her lap, and she would bring a cup to his lips for him to drink, and even though he knew it contained blood he didn't mind. Another, that he would never be able to decide if it was a good dream or a bad dream no matter how many time he looked back on it, was about Abby coming to him naked and embracing him, only for her to sink her teeth into him and begin guzzling his blood, and his response was to bite her and drink from her until they both collapsed.

Another was of his mother, who walked around the apartment as if she hadn't a care in the world, despite the fact that she was bleeding profusely from all over her body.

Eventually, he became so exhausted that he fell unconscious and slept dreamlessly for several hours.

When he did wake, and finally managed to drag himself out of the trunk, the sun was high in the sky and it was noticeably warmer. He was even able to hear the faint dripping of water as the snow and ice began to melt.

The warmer weather was a mixed blessing. While it was nice to not feel like he was going to freeze to death at any moment, the melting snow and ice made everything slippery and much more treacherous.

After the previous day's ordeal, he was ravenous and tore into the remaining candybars and chugged the remaining milk. He knew he would regret it that night, but he was sure he wouldn't be able to make it through the day if he didn't.

All he wanted was to find civilization. He didn't even care if it was a ranger station and they called the police and was taken to jail for murdering Kenny, his brother, and those two other boys as well as the officer they'd stuffed into that hole in the basement and even the officers the wolves dragged off. Though, without the bodies he supposed they wouldn't be able to prove them murdered. But the point was that he just didn't care anymore. All he wanted was to be inside somewhere. Inside somewhere warm, preferably with food.

He was so lost to the world, so tired and drained and just not caring about anything but putting one foot in front of the other that he almost missed it.

Not even fifty feet away was a house. A small house, but a house, and it was just on the other side of a small rise so he could only see it's snow covered roof.

He ran towards it, pulling the trunk along behind him, all fatigue suddenly forgotten.

At the top of the rise he stopped and looked down at the house...and into the house. The roof was partially collapsed. The collapse seemed to be contained to one room though, so that wasn't so bad. There also seemed to be a driveway continuing down the hill further than he could see through the forest. It was completely covered in undisturbed snow however, and there was no vehicle within sight.

No one was home.

He ran down and tried the door, in the hopes that it wouldn't be locked, figuring the universe owed him that much at least, only to find it was. He sighed and walked around looking for a second door, which he found, and discovered that it too was locked. He scrunched his eyes shut and prayed that he wouldn't be forced to have to climb in through the roof and then started trying windows.

The last window he tried had been left unlocked. Which annoyed him twofold. First, it was a good six inches above his head and he'd had to jump up to try and push it open, second, if he'd gone clockwise around the house instead of counter clockwise this would have been the first window he'd tried.

It was also small.

But, fortunately, for once, so was he so he was able to scramble in through the window after a half dozen tries. He found himself in a bathroom and nearly cracked his head open on the toilet when he fell through the window.

There was a fine layer of dust in the bathroom, and when he opened the door into the short hallway that lead to the back door he saw that dust was on everything, and the place smelled very musty. The kitchen was clean, aside from the dust, and the refrigerator was empty aside from from a box of baking soda and a

gallon jug of water, though surprisingly still cold and with a working bulb. He walked over to a light switch and flicked it on, lighting up the room. The next room was a combination living and dining room, with a glass dining table and chairs, a couch, a television, three armchairs, and a fireplace.

The fireplace he immediately inspected further. There was no snow in it, which meant it was closed, and after a few moments of feeling around he managed to find the lever to open it and a small amount of snow dropped in. There were some half burnt logs already there, and maybe a half dozen more stacked to the side along with a stack of telephone books from a few years ago and a large box of wooden matches. He started ripping the pages out of the telephone book, balling them up and throwing them onto the logs already in place until he nearly buried them, then he took three fresh logs and threw them on top of the paper. When he opened the box of matches he was relieved to find it nearly full. When he struck the first match, however, nothing happened. He struck it again and again until it snapped. Finally realizing that it had been damp. He tried again with another match, and another and another. After going through half the box, a match finally lit and he almost dropped it in his shock. Fortunately, he managed to get the match to the mass of paper balls and they quickly caught fire.

The wood, however, did not.

He waited, nervously watching until finally, just when the last of the paper seemed to be ready to burn out, a small flame appeared in the middle of the wood, and moments later a small but steady fire was burning in the hearth.

He sighed happily and stood up and continued his search of the house with the door closest to the fireplace. It lead to what had once been a bedroom, but with the roof collapsed it was just a mess of rotting wood and moldering fabric. He closed the door and checked the other door in the living room and discovered another, intact, bedroom. There was a large, white, fitted sheet over the bed, and he pulled it off to reveal a fully made bed.

He almost wanted to cry with joy.

He went back into the living room which was already starting to feel warmer and then into the kitchen where he started checking the cabinets. There were some boxes of dry food, cereal, pasta, crackers, flour, etc, but most of those had been torn apart by mice, though a box of teabags seemed undisturbed. There were also a few cans of soup, and after a quick search of the drawers yielded a can opener and fork he opened a can of beef stew and started eating it cold.

It still tasted better than candy and was so far beyond those stupid berries that even if this made him sick too he wouldn't regret it.

He didn't think it would though. Canned goods where supposed to be good for years and the telephone books hadn't been that old.

Once he was finished with the soup, he took it to the sink and tried the faucet. Nothing. He left the can and fork there anyway and went to the front door and unlocked it, then went out and fetched Abby's trunk. He was able to get it up onto the front porch and into the house with less effort than he'd expended dragging it through the forest for three days. He took it into the intact living room and changed out of his clothes, then climbed into the bed, and, finally safe and warm, he broke down and cried himself to sleep, not over his situation, but over the loss of the girl who'd saved his life in so many ways.