Ignoring Miles’s protests, James hoisted him on to his aching back once more and aimed for the hut. The pain in his knees and ankles had become so intense that his brain had started to shut it out and he almost didn’t register it any more, but they reached the hut without any further mishap and he lowered his charge safely to the ground. Mercifully, the hut wasn’t locked, and James staggered inside, his legs shaking uncontrollably. A little later he re-emerged and grinned at Miles. ‘I think it’s a mountain rescue hut,’ he said. ‘It’s perfect. There’s a stove, blankets, beds, and some food and water.’ The look of relief that washed over Miles was almost comical. James put a hand under one of his shoulders and they hobbled inside where Miles collapsed on to one of the beds. James lit a lamp and busied himself with getting a fire going in the stove. He then put a kettle of water on top to boil before fetching some chocolate and hard sausage from the larder. The two of them ate in silence.
