Her lips trembled as she forced out words that chilled me more than the wind ever could.
“He said… the cold would finish what he started… he said no one would find us in time.”
“Who said that?” I demanded, my voice sharper than intended.
But she had already slipped into unconsciousness in my arms.
PART 2
Winter Fence Rescue Horror did not end when I carried them to my truck; it only widened, like a crack spreading through ice until it fractures completely. I laid the babies carefully across the heated seats and blasted the engine, praying the heater would warm faster than physics allowed. I wrapped the woman — whose name I would soon learn was Megan Lawson — in spare blankets I kept behind the seat for emergencies, rubbing her hands to bring blood back into her fingers as I drove toward the nearest hospital in Miles City. The road was slick and nearly empty, the world reduced to white fields and a gray sky that felt close enough to touch.
