Page 109 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal

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I rush over to her and squat down.

“Betty . . . hey, you in there? It’s Atlas.”

I pull down the blanket to see her scared face look up at me, her teeth chattering.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I need to get her out of here.

Betty

I can’t feel my body.

My toes are numb.

My hands are numb.

I know my heart rate is low as I try to still my body, but it’s useless.

I need to call for help. I need to...

Bang, bang.

My heart startles from the knocking on my door.

“Betty. You in there?”

Atlas?

Bang, bang.

“Betty.”

After a few seconds, the door opens, and a rush of cold air flows into the house, eliminating any heat that I might have had left.

Heavy footsteps approach, followed by a body nearing me.

“Betty . . . hey, you in there? It’s Atlas.”

Blankets are pulled away from my face, and his eyes come into view.

“Fuck,” he whispers, taking me in. “We have to get you out of here.”

“C-can’t m-move,” I say, my teeth chattering so much that I can barely get the words out.

“I got you. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

He removes the blankets, but I protest. “C-cold.”

“I know,” he says softly. “You have winter gear on, good.”

Yeah, I put it on when I realized the blankets weren’t doing the job.

“I need you to climb on my back, okay?”

“W-what?” I ask.

“Betty, climb on my back.”

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