"I can walk," he says, the last word affording him a clip of his tongue in the back from chattering teeth. Moving forward, he forces himself to pick up the pace so that he's not following too far behind now. There are a few questions ramming straight through his head, one after the other. What's a guy like this doing out here? And why is he being so casual about everything?

"Why here? Middle of nowhere..." he says as he finally manages to flank him, just barely. Middle of the night more importantly.