“She's alive...” he whispered. The next thought, This changes things a bit... He didn't risk screwing around any longer. She was alive and that was just dandy, but she still had a big gun in her hand. Marcus wasn't going to take any chances. He kept his eyes locked on her face, his gun at his side, cocked and off-safety. His right arm was tensed and ready to come up at a moment's notice, while his left hand slid down and grabbed the gun so that his thumb was blocking the hammer, which happened to be cocked back, ready to fire.
Her eyes opened wide and she tried to scramble backwards, only shuffling her legs in front of her in a pathetically weak display. She looked like an animal that had just been knocked out by an abusive owner, only to wake up with the same owner standing above it and preparing for another blow.
She was trying to keep him from getting the gun. The nearly frozen woman managed to get it away from him with the help of the ice built up on it, and the fact that it was frozen to her glove which was, in turn, frozen to her hand. Marcus took a quick step back and brought his gun up in one blindingly fast motion, but before he had gotten his finger to the trigger, he saw that the barrel of her gun was still on the ice in front of her.
She couldn't even hold it up, though she was trying hard, and he felt a twinge of pity for her. She was obviously a fighter, and he liked that trait. He could respect that. He started back toward her, leaning down to try and lock eyes with hers. He was saying: “It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you...” as he moved closer.
Once in reach of the gun, he gently grabbed it again, refusing to put his own weapon away just yet. She looked up with those terrified, yet fiery eyes, then they rolled back in her head and she slumped over completely. The effort of trying to lift the gun had taken whatever she had left. She was alive for now, but Marcus knew that wouldn't last much longer.
He put both guns in his outer pockets and scooped the mystery girl up from her contorted position. He first tried carrying her like they were a honeymoon couple but quickly repositioning her for a fireman's carry. It was going to be a long trip back to his shelter, and there was no way he would make it to investigate the explosion now; it would have to wait until tomorrow.
He didn't want to venture back up there with her in tow, as she seemed to be trying to get away. He also knew that if he didn't get this one warmed up within the hour, she really would be dead. Stopping periodically to warm their bodies with vigorous rubbing and trading her frozen outer coat for his, he managed to get her back to his shelter and inside. Quickly removing her clothes to the bra and underwear, which were stiff with cold, he laid her on the pile of blankets he slept on and covered her next to the wood-burning stove.
There were always active coals in one of the three stoves he had inside the shelter, ensuring a quick and warming fire whenever needed, and they were needed frequently. Stoking the fire and opening the front grate a little, he could see moisture forming on her cheeks as the snow and ice melted, and he hoped he had gotten to her in time. He settled back in to the corner of the room wondering, Who was she? What had happened, and why was she so far out on the ice alone?
He wondered most of all, if she would be able to fill in some the blanks for him. As he settled in for some quiet time and maybe a nap, he was glad he didn't wander up to the research camp now, there might be more going on there than he realized. He managed to drift off to sleep, the events of the day and the possibilities of what tomorrow held bothering him incessantly and bringing on disturbing dreams of shootings and being shot.