(This story was written for a challenge on .com/.) :)

Special thanks to mcicioni for her beta help! :)

A snowstorm

by Allie

Snow fell in gentle, silent waves. It lay thick on the ground, obscuring the earth, making the landscape almost too bright to look at. It collected on tree limbs, turning them large and white. It also collected on ex-outlaws.

Kid and Heyes rode a single horse that plodded doggedly through the deep drifts. The world was white, the world was frozen, the horse was near complete breakdown. Both men drooped, their clothes encrusted with snow, their faces blank with exhaustion. Heyes rode in the front, holding the reins with his snow-stiffened gloved hands. Kid sat behind him, arms around him to hold the both of them up. He couldn't feel his fingers, hadn't been able to for awhile.

They were in the middle of nowhere, and it had been snowing a long time.

The horse stopped walking.

"C'mon, boy," croaked Heyes in a voice creaky and strange from disuse.

The snow fell, white, pure white, obscuring the sun, but still reflecting it so that it was brighter than usual for this time of day, unnaturally, awfully, cheerfully bright.

"C'mon, boy," repeated Heyes in a croak, slapped the reins and kicked his boots against the horse's side.

The horse didn't even bother to snort.

"No good, Kid. We gotta get—off."

Kid Curry was already climbing down. He landed in the snow, and looked around, scowling, exhausted, looking for any landmarks that might mean civilization and an unlikely rescue.

Heyes stumbled and almost fell on his way off. The horse didn't move away, just stood there with its head hanging down.

"Maybe it can follow us," said Heyes. "If I lead it. Maybe if it doesn't have to carry us…" He reached for the reins, fumbling with clumsy fingers.

The horse lay down in the snow.

"No, come on…" Heyes tugged the reins. The horse closed his eyes and ignored the command.

"Heyes." Kid put a gloved hand on his partner's shoulder. "Let's go. We gotta save ourselves." Even his mouth felt numb.

Gently, snow fell on the brown back of the horse, obscuring the color, beginning to turn it as white as the rest of the world.

"Don't look back," said Kid. "Keep going. We could shoot him, but it's no kinder. This way he just falls asleep, he don't know nothing else." Heyes nodded sadly.

The wind began to pick up now, and blow snow off the ground, to join the swirl in the air. The two frozen men plodded forward, sharp bits of icy snow biting their faces. Now enough snow blew around to obscure the light, making it seem darker and later than it was.

Soon it would be dark for real, and they needed to find shelter, or they would end up like Myron, going to sleep in the snow: a cold, quiet, pure white death.

The wind quit whistling, began to howl.

Heyes' black hat was coated with snow. He looked frozen. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to have to drag his feet, raising them and putting them down in a dogged march, making each step only by willpower. Kid felt much the same, wished they could just stop and rest awhile. He blinked heavily, sighed, and kept going. If they survived this without any loss of fingers or toes, they'd be lucky. Heck, if they survived at all, they'd be lucky.

"We need your luck, Heyes," mumbled Kid. Heyes didn't respond. Probably hadn't heard him over the wind. It swept around them, muffled heavy with the snow, stinging and biting even through Kid's heavy sheepskin jacket. He wondered if he'd ever feel his toes again.

The cold made everything feel numb, far away. It seemed less important now to keep walking. Maybe he could slow down. Maybe he could let Heyes pull ahead. It was important to stick together, he knew that, but he couldn't remember why.

Heyes stumbled.

"Heyes!" Kid jerked more fully awake, blinking rapidly. He forced himself forward, and caught his partner's shoulders, just as Heyes went down. Kid stumbled too, dragged down by his partner falling and the clumsiness of his numb limbs.

Kid struggled to spit out a mouthful of snow. He'd fallen beside his friend, who'd landed face down in the snow. Kid tugged on Heyes' coat, got him turned over.

Heyes' eyes were closed.

"Don't do this," said Kid, sick terror welling inside him. He smacked Heyes face with one gloved hand. "Heyes, don't go to sleep!"

Heyes grunted slightly, his eyelids fluttering open. "I'm so tired, Kid." His voice was quiet and faint.

"I know. We both are."

Heyes closed his eyes again, and let out a little sigh, lying there in the snow. "No," he replied slowly. "I'm more tired. Because I… sat in front, guarding you from the wind." The Kid snorted: what a terrible excuse for falling asleep.

"Well, now you gotta get up. I'll walk in front if'n you want." Kid tugged on his arm. "C'mon, Heyes. Heyes!" But Heyes lay still, breathing peacefully. His face was so pale. And already, the snow was trying to cover him.

Kid struggled to his feet, huffing like a tired horse, and scowled down at his partner. "HEYES!" No response. He debated kicking him, but no, Heyes probably wouldn't even feel it.

With a sigh, he bent over again, and started to haul Heyes up. "C'mon, Heyes," he growled, scowling from the pain in his back and the effort this took.

Heyes wasn't as heavy as he'd expected. They'd both lost some weight lately. Heyes had come down with something, and had had a cough that hung on for awhile. He hadn't gotten back to fighting trim before they once again went through a hungry spell where they were lucky to have beans once a day.

Kid gritted his teeth. Even though Heyes had lost all that weight, he was still a heavy load for Kid, who felt like he could barely stand on his own.

Still, partners meant forever, so Curry shouldered his cousin, and carried on. He had to do it, so he did it.

His steps sunk deeper in the snow with the extra weight. He took them slower, and couldn't walk as far with each step. Heyes slumped over Kid's shoulder, and awakened briefly to ask where they were.

"In the snow," said Kid. "Stay awake, Heyes. Don't worry. I'll find us somewhere safe…"

Heyes grunted softly. "I know ya will, Kid."

"Don't go to sleep," said Kid. He'd keep his promise; he'd find them somewhere safe. And if he couldn't, it would be the first promise he'd break to Heyes….

#

He didn't know how long he walked.

Sometimes he had to stop. He stood still, and then he walked some more, Heyes still flung over his shoulder. He gave his partner a shake once in awhile to try to keep him awake.

He walked till it was dark. He walked till he couldn't feel his body. He prayed and he searched and he promised God anything, if only they survived….

He walked until he'd labored more than Hercules.

He walked until… he saw a light. A small, flickering light. And then he walked some more, and it became a lamp in a window, flickering and faint, a beacon of hope leading to a cabin in the wilds.

They'd made it: somewhere safe.

He was almost too tired to smile. Almost. He adjusted his heading, and walked towards the cabin, his steps heavy, plodding—and making it.

He reached the door, and pounded with a numb fist. At first only the sound of the storm, the howling, icy wind answered him.

Then a bolt slid, the door opened—and Kid saw brown wooden walls, a fire crackling orange and merry, a rocking chair, a quilt. The surprised faces of a man, a woman, and two small children gaped at him.

Aghast, the man stared for a moment, letting the snow flutter in around the strangers at the door. Then he seemed to collect himself. "Come in—come in!"

Kid crossed the threshold, and let the man help him get Heyes off his shoulder. Heyes winced. "Kid? Where …?"

"Right here." Kid slumped down beside him on the warm hearth.

The door closed behind them, locking the snow out.