Two male voices are talking around me, but my eyelids are too heavy. I’m not sure how this day went to hell so quickly. No good deed goes unpunished.
I feel like I’m moving, and I feel like I’m freezing too hard to care about anything else. Everything burns. Everything hurts. I’m almost worried my eyelids are frozen shut because I can’t seem to open my eyes.
“Fucking wake up, you stupid fucking girl!” someone shouts close to my ear again.
Three voices. It’s three voices instead of two. The appropriate fear is absent, since I’m positive I’m about to die anyway.
I open my mouth, trying to form words, unsure what really comes out.
“Did she just say something about Bambi?” someone asks.
I feel jostled when we come to an abrupt stop, and my eyelids crack open just barely, seeing blurry, tall men as someone presumably carries me.
“He said to strip her out of her wet clothes and skin-to-skin heat would be helpful.”
“Not it,” two guys say real damn fast, but I’m still stuck on the skin-to-skin thing.
“You can’t strip naked and spoon with her, you fucking idiots,” a girl’s voice cuts in, and I shudder either because I’m still literally freezing to death or because I’m traumatized and terrified.
“You do it. You’re a girl. She won’t freak out so bad,” the guy carrying me says as we’re suddenly inside a warm house of some sort, but everything is still too blurry to make out.
I blink for a few seconds too long, and when I come too, a man’s face is hovering over mine as he barks at me to wake the hell up.
My fingers touch a beard when I try to swat him away, but my hand falls to my side, too weak to really do much.
A girl’s face pokes in right beside him, her eyes wide and her hair blonde.
“I took off your clothes,” she tells me very loudly, annunciating each word like I’m an idiot.
Then panic hits, and I glance around, seeing a lit fireplace beside me.
“Her lips are blue. Maybe someone does need to strip down.”
“You do it,” the guy snaps at her.
“You do it,” she argues. “You’re like a furnace.”
He curses and stands, and I panic even more as he starts stripping. Sure, he has a nice body, but that’s really not the point right now.
I’m in a cabin with a lot of antlers sticking out of plaques, guns hanging on walls, and animals stuffed. And a guy is stripping down as he and I think his sister argue about who puts off more body heat.
My gaze flicks toward the fireplace that I’m lying on front of…on top of what appears to be a fur rug of some sort. I swallow thickly when I realize there’s a fur blanket over me.
I came to Tomahawk without realizing it’s actually the setting for the Hills with eyes or whatever, minus the incestuous and radioactive deformities.
“Just so you know, I’m not going to touch you. Just take my heat if you want it,” the guy says sourly, which admittedly puts me at ease a little.
I start scooting away from him when he climbs under the blanket with me, but when his warm foot brushes mine, it’s like my survival instinct takes over.
I’m suddenly hugging him without even realizing how it happened, because he’s sooooo warm. I think I whimper when the coldness starts to sting, my body trying to regain more heat.
He curses and tenses all over, but puts his arms around me. “It’s like hugging a fucking popsicle,” he gripes.
I don’t even care about anything but stealing every ounce of warmth he has to offer right now, pressing as tightly as I can against him. It takes me a second to realize he still has on boxers, but I’m completely naked.
My breasts are pressed flat against his chest, and the warmer I get, the more awkward this entire situation becomes. It’s like my brain is thawing and finally appreciating the gravity of this entire encounter.
He keeps my head tucked under his, likely to avoid the awkward eye contact thing.
I say nothing, since I still want more warmth right now. I’ll freak out in a minute.
At least there’s nothing sexual about the way he’s touching me. I think this is clearly just what it looks like—a stranger grudgingly sharing body heat with a stupid girl who tried to save a deer, when she knows nothing about ice or wildlife.
Day one in Tomahawk, and I almost died for a fourth time. Guess I know I’m selling that cabin now.
“What the hell is going on?” another woman’s voice snaps.
I peer over the blanket just enough to see a woman with a wild bun on her head and an axe in her hand. I barely stop myself from fainting, because this is just getting more insane by the second, and I currently hate every horror movie I’ve ever seen that had a wilderness setting.