“Mom,” I mumbled in the frigid pre-dawn.
“Huh?”
“Need you to take over. Just a little while.”
“Sure, baby,” she said, sitting up. My leg was numb from where her head had lain. Her hair was as a nest from the neighboring aviary. We traded positions, and I lay my own head on her sturdy leg while a cold light touched the blackened bridge columns to the east.
––––––––
I awoke in tangle, spittle running from my loose lips.
“Uch,” I struggled to sit, “sorry Mom, I drooled on y–”
“Shh!” She batted my shoulder. She pointed a trembling hand ahead through the thicket. Something struggled up the hillside, crooked against the morning sky. A man. Shoulders canted beneath a heavy coat. He made uneven strides and cleared his throat with a rattle. The felt brim of a homburg obscured his face. His
