Chapter Twenty: Breaking the Ice

They had been walking for near ten minutes now, going deeper into the forest, the ground reaching an incline. Greg ducked his head as he was pushed under several thick branches, his hand out in front of him; that way he knew what was just ahead of him. At the moment, it was the only way he really knew where they were going, not that he knew the final destination Tom had planned for him.

"You know," Greg spoke up, his voice a bit shaken, as he was aware that the other man still had the gun pressed against the base of his neck, the other hand firmly entwined in his hood. "This isn't the best of ideas."

"Shut up," Tom warned him, shoving him forward for good measure.

Greg stumbled, but was able to get his feet under him again, not resisting against the quick pace the other had chosen. "We can't even see where we are going," Greg pointed out, bringing his hand up again.

"That's why you're leading," Tom answered. "You've messed up enough things already."

Rolling his eyes, Greg sighed, stumbling again as he his feet found a small dip in the ground. The only thing that kept him on his feet that time was a forceful yank from Tom on his hood. Scowling, Greg turned to look at him over his shoulder. "Well, I'm sorry I wasn't willing to die."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Tom told him, "You have no idea how much work you've ruined. I had everything set in place, if only I hadn't been rushed."

Greg grimaced as a branch caught him on the head, prompting him to duck again as they pushed their way past several more trees. "Shouldn't you be mad at your supervisors then?" Greg wondered, rubbing his head gingerly.

"Maybe, but honestly, when they go over trials, who are they going to believe? I'm nothing to them, and I never would be unless they let me actually try. But no, they never did. I never actually planned for you to be the one to take the fall, it sort of happened that way."

"Lucky me," Greg muttered, shaking his head, before frowning. "Wait a minute…it was you who cut the power that night, wasn't it? That's how our hairs ended up on the db's, you were the one in our cabin."

Tom laughed shortly, "Smart, you are smart."

"I didn't think of it earlier, it was easy enough, provide a distraction, you have the keys to this place."

"I wasn't sure what to take at first, all I needed was something with both your DNA on it, and I only found one brush in the bathroom, it was a fair enough guess."

"I forgot to pack one," Greg muttered. He and Sara had just bought a new one after finding it missing, not even thinking about it. Now he wished that he had.

"Keep walking," Tom snapped, pushing him forward again.

"Like I said before," Greg shot back, "This isn't the safest idea. Do you have any idea where this goes?"

"No, but I'll wager we'll find out tonight, what do you think?" Tom laughed, coming to a stop.

Greg was thankful for the rest, although it was eerie. It was oddly quiet, only the rustling of the heavy branches in the light wind, along with their own, heavy breathing could be heard. In the distance, the howling of a wolf could be heard, causing Greg to shudder lightly. This was too much like a horror movie, and they were in the pause right before the bad thing happened to the good people.

"It sounds like we've left our friends behind," Tom commented softly, taking a step back. Greg felt the gun leave his neck, felt the hold on his coat disappear. He didn't need a second invitation.

Swinging around, Greg clenched his good hand into a fist, grimacing at the hollow sound that followed as soon as he hit him, pain flooding down his hand and into his arm. He waved his hand briskly in the night air, even as he lunged towards Tom, knocking the surprised man down.

In his mind at that moment, Greg knew he had to get a hold of the gun. He knew that if Tom got a good enough grip on it, good enough to pull the trigger, there was little chance that he would miss his intended target.

The only problem was that Tom was strong, a lot stronger than Greg had given him credit for. When he had first seen Tom, the man appeared lanky, but there seemed to be a hidden strength in him, something that was a downfall for Greg.

He had expected him to fight back, and he wasn't disappointed. He had expected Tom to overpower him, had expected the gun to fire. What he hadn't expected was the fall. During their struggles, they had found the other end of the incline. A precipice. One second the ground was there, and the next, they found themselves tumbling down what seemed like an endless drop.

The snow impacted their rapid descent for the most part, but Greg was certain he had caught a few rocks on the way down. He landed hard at the bottom, still sliding a ways before coming to a complete stop. Groaning he laid his head down on the cold terrain for a short minute, before his senses kicked in.

Raising his head, a bit confused now, Greg tried to push himself up, only to slip again. This wasn't right, he thought dimly. The ground was way too hard, too cold, and too slick to be snow. He let out a long breath, realizing that they were no longer on solid ground, but on ice, more in likely a frozen lake or pond. Whatever the case, Greg knew they had to get off, and get off soon, he could hear the ice already cracking under his weight.

He had no idea where Tom was at the moment; he could neither see nor hear the man. Moving his weight carefully, Greg was able to get to his hands and knees. Below him, he could see the faint shimmer of the ice from the light of the moon, allowing him to see a faint reflection of himself.

He was knocked down, Tom tackling him at the mid section, the blow unexpected. Greg landed hard on his side, already moving to get a hold on the other man. He still had the gun, as it fired wildly into the air several different times. Swinging his legs around, Greg kicked out at him, throwing his hand out behind him to break his fall.

Only the ice didn't stop his awkward landing. The icy water stung his arm through the layers of clothing, sending a chill down his spine as he heard the ice break even more. He pulled his arm free, raising his hands to stop the other man as he charged; trying to warn him, but it was already too late, as the ice gave way beneath the both of them.

It felt as though his entire body had gone into shock, and for a moment, Greg panicked, trying to draw in a deep breath but only succeeding in choking on a mouthful of water. His head broke the surface, coughing and spitting he managed to take in a breath.

The water stung his entire body, but even more so around his neck and face, where he didn't have any protection at all. Shivering fiercely now, and bobbing only a few inches away from the edge of more ice, Greg reached out, trying to grab a hold of the ice, only to have it break under his weight, weak now from the original break.

Suddenly he was pulled under the water again, something was dragging him down. Not something, but someone. Pushing away, Greg's head broke the surface at the same time as Tom's, both men gasping loudly, flailing in the open circled rim of ice.

Before Greg could react, Tom grabbed a hold of him again, pushing him under the surface as he tried to climb out of the frozen water. Struggling under him, Greg tried to push his way to the surface again, his lungs already burning due to the simple fact he had not gotten enough air before being pushed under. Finally able to throw him off, Greg drew in several long draughts of air, shaking his head as in hopes to clear the water from his eyes.

He was able to get a longer breath this time, before Tom had another hold of him, pushing him back down. Greg knew that if he didn't do something soon, he would drown before long. The chilly waters already zapping him of his strength, he wouldn't have much more energy to fight back.

He pushed his way back up again, breaking free of Tom's hold as he tried to surface. He was dully surprised when he came just short though, his head hitting the bottom of the ice. Somehow he had moved away from the opening.

Panicked now, Greg reached up with his hands, feeling his way along in hopes of finding the opening, never straying to far from his original location in fear of only moving away further. It seemed like hours, but in reality could be no more than a stretch of long seconds, as Greg's lungs began to burn once again, begging for a breath that wasn't there.

His movements became slower, more lethargic as the cold continued to bite into him, making him lose sense of time and reality, as he closed his eyes, already breathing in the icy water as everything slowly began to fade away.

TBC…