His eyes popped open. “Ow.”

“Put on the damn coat, Marine. Make yourself useful.” She got his arms in the sleeves, zipped him up, then pulled the hood over his head and cinched the strings.

She and Lewis each got a shoulder under an armpit and a hand on his belt, and raised him to his feet. June’s knees shook. He was heavy, almost deadweight. “He can’t stand on his own,” she said.

“I got him.” Lewis pivoted swiftly to face Peter, dropped his head under Peter’s left armpit and wrapped his arm around Peter’s left knee. Then he straightened with Peter slung across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

Peter let out a long groan.

“Imagine how I feel, Jarhead.” Lewis’s voice was strained. “You one heavy motherfucker.”

Then he turned and began to climb the ravine, one step at a time, with June right behind them.

—

At the top of the hill, they loaded Peter in the back of the rented Ford and June climbed in beside him, using her body heat to raise his temperature, or at least not let it drop any farther. She couldn’t tell if his skin was getting cooler, but she didn’t like that he’d stopped talking.

Lewis cranked the heat up high and hauled ass toward the cluster of cars gathered around the dead. By the time Lewis diverted into the corn stubble to avoid driving through the crime scene, June was already on her phone, trying to find the nearest medical facility that would be open in the small, cruel hours of the night. There wasn’t anything nearby.

As they bounced across the ditch and back to the road, the pasty-faced young trooper stepped in front of the car, waving for them to stop.

Lewis dropped the window. “We found our guy. He was thrown from the car. He’s hypothermic and banged up and needs medical attention.”

The trooper peered into the back. “You better take him yourself. I can’t get you an ambulance for forty minutes or longer.”

“Hey, Trooper.” The sturdy woman in overalls stood up and pointed across the field. “My house is right there. I got a bathtub and big water heater and a good first-aid kit.”

Lewis looked at June, who nodded.

“Thanks, we’ll take you up on that,” Lewis said.

The woman had already pushed the young trooper aside and opened the passenger door. “I’m Bobbie.” She climbed inside. “What are you waiting for? Step on it already.”

“Stay at the house,” the young trooper called. “The investigator will need to talk with you both.”

Lewis hit the gas as Bobbie peered over the seatback, first at Peter, then at June. “I met this guy earlier,” she said. “He’s tough, he’ll be all right.”

“Thank you.” June reached out a hand and Bobbie took it. “He means the world to me.”