Interlude

Preface:

"Life is like the ocean; only those with steadfast will can reach the other shore."

—Karl Marx

With the last three zongzi in his pocket—

—Billy Horn slowly climbed down from the ship, slid down the rope ladder onto the ice, and carefully stamped his feet to make sure the ground was solid before daring to walk forward.

Fay tossed two bundles of cloth down from the cargo hold. She planned to unpack the goods, using some to wrap up and ward off the cold, and the rest to start a fire for warmth.

Mr. Judas was watching the wind, trying to determine their direction. It was all so simple and natural. Everything was about survival.

The glutinous rice had frozen hard and dry. At first, it wasn't too noticeable when his teeth cracked through it, but after a few more bites, it turned dry and bitter. Only when he tasted the fatty pork inside did Billy feel like he was eating "food," rather than wax, stone, or ice.

He took two layers of cloth from Fay, wrapped them around himself and covered his head and neck, then silently followed Judas.

He thought, Maybe before long, I can say goodbye to this miserable life spent braving the elements.

If you paid close attention, you'd notice that both Blood-giving Monsters turned their backs on Billy Horn while eating human flesh. Judas carried a large wooden bucket. After walking five or six hundred meters, he had to eat something to maintain his body temperature. Blood-giving Monsters were much colder than Homo sapiens, and their metabolism determined how much energy their bodies consumed and how much effort they could exert. They had to keep stuffing human flesh into their stomachs.

Billy had brought back only a little of the Blood Hawk's provisions.