“Fuck it's cold.”
“Of course it is.”
“Just replying,” but said with a smug smile. I rolled my eyes dramatically, hugged myself, and stamped my feet, trying to get something, anything warm.
“How much longer are we going to wait around?”
“He said he wouldn’t be long.”
“That was hours ago!”
“It was fifteen minutes. No, I tell a lie,” he checked his phone, “thirteen and a half.”
“Just have some patience.”
“I know, but don’t be surprised if I haven’t keeled over from exposure by the time he gets here.”
He chuckled and handed me a small bottle from somewhere inside his jacket.”
“I raided a mini-bar somewhere, someplace. It will keep you warm. Might even cheer you up a little.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be grumpy.” I did of course. I unscrewed the top of the miniature bottle and took a swig.
“Fuck!” I spat out what I had nearly swallowed. “What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t have a label.”
I shrugged. “Yea.”
“Then drink up.”
“Cheers.” I saluted him and took another swig. Something foul and cloyingly sweet slipped down my throat, but give him credit, it was warming, after a fashion. I offered him the bottle. “Want some?”
“Thank you kind sir, but I can’t drink that crap.”
“But I can?”
I took another long swig and started to feel tingly, and surprisingly much more with it. I took a look at our surroundings, or what I could make out in the murky darkness.
I knew that we were stood in the middle of a boggy section of moorland, you could smell the stale, fetid water everywhere, and Gabriel kept repeating “be careful where you step,” so I got that loud and clear, wet feet, or worse.
What the fuck were we doing here freezing our asses off? But of course I knew exactly why we were here.