Kick

Snow. Storm. Forest. Just recently it had seemed so quiet and calm, and now it was the complete opposite. You were chilled to the bone, but you didn't stop. You kept going, even though the wind blew in your face. Your hands clutched your rifle, as if it were your last hope of getting out alive.

How long have you been here? It felt like hours. Your strength was ebbing. The storm wasn't abating. Consciousness was slipping through your fingers. Your eyes were starting to close. The end. No. You felt someone large and warm embrace you. The storm, as if on command, died down. Catching your breath, you looked at the man. Kick. How did he get here? What on earth was he doing here?

-Let's go.

He ordered, stepping back. The soldier started to walk away from you. You decided to follow him, but your legs wouldn't obey. It was as if you were pinned to the ground. You screamed. You called for him. You tried to get out. But he was gone. And the storm returned.

A sharp blow to the shoulder woke you. You lazily opened your eyes and looked at the man who had woken you. Kick. Him again. And judging by his eyes, something was wrong.

-Why didn't you follow me?

The man asked. Apparently he had the same dream as you, but... How is that possible?