“Fuck it's cold.”
“Of course it is.”
“Just saying.”
“Just replying,” but said with a smug smile. Adam rolled his eyes dramatically, hugged himself, and stamped his 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,” Gabriel 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.”
Gabriel chuckled and handed Adam a small bottle from somewhere inside his jacket.”
“What’s this?”
“I raided a mini-bar somewhere, someplace. It will keep you warm. Might even cheer you up a little.”
Adam sighed. “I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be grumpy.” He did of course. He unscrewed the top of the miniature bottle and took a swig.
“Fuck!” He spat out what he had nearly swallowed. “What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t have a label.”
“It’s foul!”
“But warming?”
Adam shrugged. “Yea.”
“Then drink up.”
“Cheers.” He saluted Gabriel and took another swig. Something foul and cloyingly sweet slipped down his throat, but give him credit, it was warming, after a fashion. He offered Gabriel the bottle. “Want some?”
“Thank you kind sir, but I can’t drink that crap.”
“But I can?”
“Quit moaning.”
Adam took another long swig and started to feel tingly, and surprisingly much more with it. He took a look at their surroundings, or what he could make out in the murky darkness.
He knew that they 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 he got that loud and clear, wet feet, or worse.
What the fuck were they doing here freezing their asses off? But of course he knew exactly why they were here.