Do you know that feeling when you're exhausted the limits of your ability, but you have to move forward? Still forward? So it was with us. We walked forward many hours without rest, without a word. I felt that if I fall down again, I do not lift up anymore. But I remained silent. I clenched my teeth and I kept going. After some time we got to the woods, and my father decided to stop. With relief, I sat down on a fallen tree trunk. I shivered in the cold, even though I was all wet from the effort. Father took off his coat and covered me. I saw that he was looking at me worried and I knew what he thought. We will not gonna make it. We are going to die.

Suddenly we heard snap of broken twig. My father jumped up and hid behind a tree. He showed me silently to lay down on the ground behind the tree trunk. I listened to him without a word. After a while, someone shouted in our direction, " Stand stille hvor big star! Hvem du er "?

My father looked at me and said, "What the hell does that mean?" shrugged his shoulders and shouted "English?"

"Stand where you are! Who are you? " we heard in response.

"Survivors. We need help" said my father. He came out from behind a tree, stood in the middle and turned several times to show that there is a weapon. Of course it wasn't. Weapons disturbed during walk through the snowdrifts. So everything was hidden in a backpack, which I clenched in my hands. On one signal I could quickly drop this weapons to my father. Besides, my father was not completely defenseless. On the back of pants he had a hidden the knife, and the knife in his hands was a terrifying weapon.

"Okay, I go out! Any stupid ideas! " stranger called out to us, and after a moment in our direction came a young man in a long gun pointed at us. It was hard to look at him more closely because he was coarsely dressed, had a hood on his head, and his face was belted scarf.

My father looked at him and literally in this one look he rated everything: the stranger, the situation and the whole possibilities. His skills calculation always aroused in my respect and admiration. He sensed danger and he was never wrong. The stranger apparently did not raise his suspicions, so he turned away from him, he came to me. He helped me sit down on a stump and knelt beside me. The man stood behind us with guns at the ready.

"Boy, if you like your gun and you like your head on your neck, I suggest you to not to target this at me." said my father did not even turning his head in his direction. He took off my shoes and carefully watched my feet. He did so every time when we had time to rest. I did not like it. It always hurt me, but dad explained that is neccessary to control my frostbite.

"You .. You said that you are survivors!" the boy said hesitantly, leaving gun a little.

"That's right, we're." replied my father, still watching and tying my feet over again. "Our plane crashed .."

Stranger reacted immediately on these words. "It was your flight? I saw an explosion. In the mountains you can still see the smoke. Only you survived that crash? "

"Nope.. But only we are still alive." My father replied flatly, ending dressing my legs.

"Where are you came from?"

"LA" I said, and immediately regretted those words, because my father looked at me angrily.

"Los Angeles? Really? "asked puzzled stranger. "Damn, well, you are far away from home .."

My father founded my shoes, got up, brushed himself off pants and turned to the boy. "What is this place?"

"Norway" replied the boy.

"Norway?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Great. Just terrific. "My father shook his head in disbelief. Then he looked at me and noticed that I hide hands behind my back. "Show me your hands," he said firmly. I shook my head, so he said sternly, "I will not repeat twice. Your hands! Now!" I dropped my head in resignation and gave him my hands. Every movement of my hands caused a lot of pain, like thousands of needle sticks into my fingers.

Father unwrapped the cloth from my hand, and frowned, "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked with reproach in his voice. I replied sheepishly, "I did not want to impose. You had other more important things on his mind." My father looked at me meaningfully, took my face in his hands and said seriously, "Nothing is more important to me than you, remember that." Then he turned toward the boy. "What's your name, boy?"

"Inselstein, Sir. Helmut Inselstein"

"Okay, Inselstein. You know the area. Do you know any place where we could rest for a few days? "

"I can take you to the house of my father. But is two days from here."

Father shook his head. "It's too far. I have to think about my child. Did you see these hands? If I'd not take care of it, you may experience severe frostbite. I guess you know what that means. "

"Yes, I know," replied the boy. "An hour away is my hut. Nothing special, but we could relax there, but .. "

"But what?"

"I have just come back from there. We can not go there. There are too many aerodynamisk jakt-terminator. "

"Many of what? English boy!"

"Sorry. Flying terminators .."

"You mean the drones?"

"Yes, drones. I counted five, but there could be more. "

My father smiled and nodded. "Just great." Then he came back to me and began to wrap my hands over again. I hissed in pain.

"Wait," said Inselstein. "I have something else," he said, and reached for something out of the bag. "I made these gloves for my girlfriend. They are very warm and comfortable. He can wear them for a while." He pulled out a pair of cute gloves with fox fur and handed it to me. I looked questioningly at my father. "What should you say?" my father asked me. I watched uneasily once on the gloves once at my father. I did not know what to do, what he expects from me. Should I take it or not? Inselstein interpreted my hesitation in a different way. "Listen buddy, I know that it is for the girl, but that does not matter. I promise that no one will laugh at you. "He said, handing me gloves closer. I was still undecided. Then my father took the gloves, put me on my hands, shook his head and said, "You should say thank you, kiddo."

"Thank you," I said, red with shame.

"You're welcome." Inselstein smiled.

"Okay, let's go," said my father. "Lead on, kid."

Inselstein looked at my father in surprise. "Go where? You want to go there? I said that it makes no sense. You will die! "

Father smiled. He picked up Inselstein's rifle, examined it carefully and asked, "What are you doing with that?"

"I hunt"

"Hunt? That's nice. For what?"

"For all that I can find." said Inselstein. My father nodded and put his hand on his shoulder. "Time to hunt for something else."

Inselstein shook his head, "If you will go, you will die."

My father smiled, reloaded the gun, put it on his shoulder and said, as he used to always to say, "Boy, come with me if you want to live."