Jan gasped for air.
The freezing water seemed to soak into his very bones as the river brushed him about haphazardly and he submerged again.
No. He would not drown. Not when he was so close to family.
Jan, limbs still lethargic, battled his way against current and body until his lungs burst, and, thank God, they took in air.
He paddled feebly, keeping his head up for a long as he could and blinking to try to find some aid in the darkness.
There was none to be found.
The moonlight hinted at an edge to this freezing expanse of river and Jan desperately moved towards it.
For a moment, his feet found purchase on the riverbed.
But then the current dragged them up again and Jan went spinning further down the river; a lucky branch reached out and grabbed a hold of his grasping arms. Jan clung to the foliage with all his might, thanking whatever powers had saved him.
By all rights, he shouldn't be alive.
Shock might set and then he would be doomed, Jan reasoned.
Finding his last vestiges of strength, he hauled himself to the river's edge using the branch and then his feet where the current eased to allow his movement.
He collapsed, legs still in the water, when he could finally lay his torso on land.
Murmuring happy prayers, Jan kissed the ground.
A few breaths later, the cold of the air began to seep through the sopping clothes. Moaning, Jan rolled himself completely from the water. Using the tree that had been helpful before, he rose to his shaking feet.
With one deep breath to steady his shivering body, Jan began to walk back upstream. There had to be a bridge with a road to take him back to the village.
Stumbling, shaking, he fought his way through the bushes and trees that grew close to the river's edge. He had barely gone far before he contemplated stating a fire. Quickly after that thought he was reminded of how he was dependent on matches.
Miserable and cold, Jan somehow managed to stumble his way to a bridge, not knowing that it was the one he had so cruelly been tossed from earlier that night.
It was salvation in his eyes and he fell at its side, leaning himself against one of the posts.
Jan could see faint lights from where he sat, but having been gone for so long he could not remember on which side of the river his village rested.
So there he sat, in frigid and damp clothes, awaiting someone, something, to come to his rescue.
As the night wore on, he curled up to conserve his body heat and prayed his efforts to escape the river would not be in vain for he could not find the strength to fight his way towards the lights.
Sleep started to steal over his shivering body.
Jan could've sworn that the lights began to move closer.