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It was cold. That's all that Jim could think about. The cold wind biting his skin. His hands shook as he tried to stike his flints to make a fire. His fingers were so stiff from the cold that he could barely move them, let alone start a fire. But he had to try. He had to try for Bill. Bill who was sitting just feet away from him barely even shivering anymore, skin paler than the snow that surrounded them. Bill who was going to freeze to death if Jim couldn't get it together and start a fire. There was no way that he would be able to strike his flints though, no matter how hard he tried. He put the flints back in his pocket and glanced around for inspiration. He allowed his eyes to linger on Bill for a moment. He clearly didn't have long left, he was no longer shivering and just lay in the snow, curled into a ball. His eyes then drifted over to the remains of yesterday's fire, half buried by snow. What he wouldn't give for that fire to be lit right now. Jim paused. That fire could be lit right now. It was blazing just a few short hours ago, surely it couldn't be completely dead yet!
Jim sprinted over to the pile of ashes, his feet slipping in the snow. He dropped to his knees and began to drag his fingers through the smoldering pile of ashes before pulling back as he burned himself. Wait. It burned? Jim stuck his hands back in and pulled out a tiny piece of still hot coal from the middle of the ashes. He placed it carefully in between a few pieces of charred wood, cupped his hands around it and began to blow on it gently. If this coal went out, there were no others. They would likely die. Luckily, it didn't go out. It sparked and grew hotter.
There was only one problem. They had no kindling, no fuel, nothing. Jim hurried over to Bill and shook him, trying to rouse him.
"Bill. William. Come on, stay with me. We need to find fuel." Jim urged.
Bill uncurled himself. He looked terrible. "What're you doin' Jim?" He said, his words slurred.
"Come on, we need to go." Jim said, pulling Bill to his feet and tugging him over to their horses.
Bill was obviously still confused as he stumbled with Jim over to their horses. "Why'd we need fuel? Its hot. 'M hot Jim." He complained, causing Jim to curse.
He was no doctor but that couldn't be good. "We need to go and get food for the horses. Horse fuel." He reasoned, trying to atleast get Bill to cooperate. It seemed to work as Bill allowed himself to be helped onto his horse by a still shivering Jim.
They rode for a short while away from where they had been resting. Jim knew that there was a small camp around here somewhere. He remembered hearing about it but he wasn't sure if it was still inhabited. He resolved to find out. Unfortunately, Jim soon started to notice that he too had slowly stopped shivering. This was bad. To make matters even worse, their horses began to slow to a stop. Exhausted from their journey in the cold.
Jim sighed and leaned forward against his horse. He was so cold and tired. He was ready to give up. He glanced over to Bill's horse and noticed that the man wasn't moving anymore. He was slumped over the neck of his horse, barely breathing, lips blue. Jim felt a stab of terror in his heart. He couldn't let Bill die. He was probably the best man that Jim had ever met and he was relying on Jim to save him.
Jim groaned as he dismounted his horse. His whole body was stiff with cold but they had to be close by now. He began to make his way through the thick, knee deep, snow.
He dragged his legs through the cold powder, struggling with every step. After what felt like years of walking but was likely only fifteen minutes, he finally stumbled across the old camp. It was, in fact, abandoned.
Jim, filled with fresh energy, staggered towards the wood storage of the camp. He almost cried when he opened the crate and was greeted with an entire load of dry logs and wood bark. He immediately gathed the logs in his arms and rushed towards the middle of the camp. He pulled the flints out of his pocket, glad that he had the fore-sight to bring them with him and struck them into the carefully arranged wood. It was easy now that his hands had stopped shaking, even if it was for a bad reason. It didn't take long to get a flame which then turned into a full, roaring fire. Jim allowed himself a moment to enjoy the heat that the fire brought before turning and making his way back to where he had left Bill.
Leaving that fire was probably the hardest thing that he had ever had to do. Plunging his legs back into the deep snow came second. The only thoughts in his head as he dragged himself through the snow and back towards where he had left his horse was getting back to Bill and returning him to the warmth of the fire. The thought of Bill was the only thing that kept him from just laying down in the snow and giving up. It was harder going back since the wind was blowing directly into his face and he was just glad that there weren't any bears about. Jim shuddered as he remembered stitching up Jedediah's head after his bear attack the previous year. Horrible. It seemed to take even longer to get back but he did make it eventually.
As soon as he got back, he hurried to Bill's side. "Bill're you 'wake? I made us a fire." Jim winced at how slured his words came out.
Bill's eyelids fluttered but he didn't react otherwise and it felt like Jims heart dropped into his boots.
"Com'n Bill. William. Wake up. We need t'go." Jim begged, feeling a type of terror that he'd never felt before.
When Bill still didn't stir, Jim knew that he had to do this himself. He reached up and pulled Bill off of his horse which seemed to wake him up slightly as he managed to stand by himself, leaning against Jim. Jim turned, with Bill still clinging to him like the lifeline he was, and began to trudge back through the snow. Despite their exhaustion, their horses seemed to realize that they were moving to saftey and followed. Jim didn't try and ride them back though, knowing that they were too weak for that.
Before they were even halfway back, Bill's legs gave out and Jim ended up carrying him. Jim didn't know where he was getting this strength but he didn't think that he would've been able to do it for anyone other than Bill. He just hoped that the fire was still burning when they got back. As he half carried, half dragged Bill through the now waist high snow, he noticed that the man already seemed dead. He was completely limp yet his body was so stiff. There was snowflakes landing on his skin and they didn't melt. His lips were a sickening shade of blue, his skin was a pale grey and his eyes were sunken. If Jim couldn't see him breathing, he would've assumed that he was dead and layed down in the snow to die with him. There was no point in his surviving this if Bill didn't.
Finally, they made it back to the camp and for the first time that day, luck was on their side. The fire was still burning hot and Jim almost collapsed with relief. He dragged Bill's frozen body over to the fire side and layed him down on the, thankfully, snowless ground. The trees overhead had likely protected the camp from much of the heavy snowfall. Jim allowed himself a moment to sit and warm his hands by the fire. It was a painfully sweet feeling as his hands thawed out. It burned but was probably the best feeling that Jim had ever felt.
Jim needed something to do. He couldn't just sit here, his adrenaline was still too high. He dug through his satchel and pulled out a salted meat bone from the buffalo they had shot recently. He stood up, glad to find himself beginning to shiver healthily again, and walked over to their horses. The horses were settling down to sleep, seemingly unbothered by the freezing temperatures. He reached for his horses saddle where he had tied a pot, amongst a few other things, at the start of their journey. He detached the pot and filled it with snow. He then placed the pot over the fire to melt the snow. By the time that the snow had melted, Bill was finally starting to shiver weakly, still not awake. Jim poured half the water into his empty hip flask and then placed the meat bone in the other half and put it back over the fire. He kept simmering the bone for around half an hour before he deemed it ready. He moved the pot off the fire and fished the bone out with a stick that he wiped clean in the snow before pouring the broth into a small bowel that had been inside his satchel because he was collecting drinking water in it.
Jim knelt down next to Bill and gently roused him. Bill woke up and and blinked confusedly at Jim. Jim then carefully placed the warm broth in Bill's shaking hands. Bill leant against Jim as he drank, Jim guiding Bill's hands to his mouth because they were shaking too much to eat with them. After Bill had finnished the broth, he let out a contented sigh and a mumbled "Thanks Jimmy." before he fell asleep again, peacefully this time, leaning against Jim.
Jim smiled and leant back against a nearby tree. When him and Bill were comfortably situated, he reached over towards the soup bone and cracked it open. As he sat there, sucking out the remnants of the marrow, he couldn't help but reach for Bill's wrist. As he felt the man's pulse thrumming strongly against his fingers, he finally allowed himself to relax. They would both live.