“This was your genius plan?” I yelled, my voice muffled by the thick scarf over my nose and mouth. “Hide on the fucking ice?” I reached up with my mitts to pull the drawstrings of my hood tighter.
Hodge didn’t even turn around, he just kept trudging forward across the white expanse. My goggles would fog up occasionally as I breathed, heaving breaths that shook my whole body. Trying to get across this place was going to kill me.
“Hodge! Where are we even going?” The thirteen men following us would be far better equipped than we were.
“Somewhere safe.” Two words. Two gruff words that just about made it over the howling winds.
Safety. That was something that had been missing from my life ever since I met Hodge, three weeks ago. We’d met at the Blackfriar’s Pub in London after conversing online. A forum for conspiracy theorists.
Turns out it was less of a theory than we first thought…
The Idiot in Tin Foil