Hundred Yards

I finally ran out of steam a hundred yards or less from the first trees of the forest. I knew in my heart, as I lay panting in the snow, that I'd reached the end of my strength. All the same, I rested a few minutes, as I had before, then tried to rise — no good. I made it as far as my knees, then dropped. Another long rest. Again I tried to rise. Again I fell, this time face first into the snow, where I lay, shivering, unable to roll over.

The cold was unbearable. A human would have died from it long ago. Only the vampire blood in my veins had kept me going. But even the powerful blood of the vampires had its limits. I'd pushed to the very end of mine. I had no strength left, not even the tiniest morsel.

I was finished.

I wept pitifully as I lay there, tears turning to ice on my cheeks. Snowflakes drifted onto my eyelashes. I tried lifting a hand to brush them away, but couldn't.

***

Cirque Du Freak: The Vampire Prince, Chapter 3