His fingers clawed through snow and slush. The cold bit into him, numbing flesh and stealing strength. He reached the car door and slapped at the handle with frozen hands. The door creaked open. With one final pull fueled by desperation, he dragged himself across the threshold. Inside, at last.
Alan collapsed across the seats, panting, moaning as pain flared again. His vision blurred. The cat’s breath was weaker now, a tiny puff against the blanket. He fumbled for the phone, hands shaking uncontrollably. He hit the emergency number. “Route 6… down… hurt… cat…” His voice was barely a whisper.
Everything spun. The storm outside blurred into gray. He leaned his head against the steering wheel, forcing his eyes to stay open. “Not yet,” he muttered. “Not yet…” His body begged for unconsciousness, but his will clung to the edge, refusing to let go. They needed him awake. Just a little longer.
Then—lights. Flashing red. A siren’s wail, slicing through the night. The car door flew open. A paramedic’s face appeared, a flurry of motion and cold air. Alan couldn’t lift his head. Could barely breathe. But he moved a trembling hand toward the blanket. “Save them,” he rasped. “Please… save them…”