Wind Chill Novelas e Histórias

She grabbed her cheap beige purse, checked that she had everything that she needed – car keys, CV, wallet, trailer key – and wrapped herself in her shapeless black coat. The snow on the ground had hardened to the consistency of concrete so she didn’t need her clumpy boots, but the wind coming down The Rockies was something else. It cut through her body like a knife, chilling her lungs and making breathing challenging.

She looked exhausted, her fingers blue from the cold. "How long?" Baraka asked. Eliana didn't need to ask what he meant. She checked her heavy mechanical wristwatch. "They've been burning for forty minutes," Eliana shouted over the gale. "The thermal Actives out on the wings are taking the brunt of it. They are exposed to minus-twenty-degree wind chill while simultaneously generating two-thousand-degree plasma from their hands. The Caloric Debt is going to hit them all at once. If we don't swap them out soon, they will fall into hypothermic shock and drop out of the cowlings."

Exiting through the glass doors that edged on enormous, she reckoned that it was quite foolish of her to not have brought her jacket. The clouds were gathering in the vast sky and the wind was howling, carrying with it a river of dust and leaves. She winced at the chill that ran down her body. Without hovering near the entrance of La Vida, she rushed to the edge of the busy road and hailed for a taxi. In close to a minute, one came screeching close to the pavement. She jumped into the warmth of the car and was about to close the door, when it was pulled back.

The temperature had barely hit the upper forties today and, with dusk an hour off, it promised to drop. A chill laced the breeze and the scent of snow clung to it. Nate had grown up in the Midwest where all he had to do was blink and the weather shifted, but Wyoming was a whole different level of bipolar.

She eyed the pointy stone with which her head collided. Her clothes were drenched and felt heavy against her body. Goosebumps erupted on her skin and her teeth chattered together. Her clothes felt cold against her body and the raging wind was not doing her much good. How is she not suffering from hypothermia after being passed for who knew how long?

The wind howled eerily as it whipped through the dark and desolate streets, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to be caught in its icy embrace. The snow fell softly, painting the world in a blanket of white, but it did nothing to warm the hearts of the brave few who braved the elements. Their breaths came out in plumes of mist, rising like ghosts into the frozen air, as they huddled deeper into their heavy coats, searching for any shred of comfort.

A chorus of chilling winds whispered through the trees, teasing my chapped lips as if beckoning them to tremble. The enigmatic touch of winter's breath painted frost upon my very core, a shiver racing down my spine like a clandestine dancer. The frigid tendrils of cold had ensnared my muscles in their icy grasp, numbing every sensation from my cheeks to my fingertips. The world around me seemed hushed, draped in an ethereal shroud of silence that only winter's arrival could bestow.

Most of the time they had their tinted visors down, but they'd periodically raise them at stoplights and such. It was the perfect temperature once they started to move. Windchill could sometimes subtract as much as thirty degrees from the ambient temperature the riders felt. That meant on a ninety degree day, it could feel in the sixties easily. It was mostly dependent on sun, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and the direction of counter breezes, just to name a few.

"Hold on to me!" A nasty blast of wind blew, and the sky darkened even more. Alex felt the chill as well. The biting cold wind reached the bone marrow. Alex clasped Phoenix's body. Although it wasn’t warm and cozy enough, the soft elasticity is undeniably present. But now it was bone-chilling cold. Even if he had the urge, he was also powerless! "Go over there to that corner." "That stone slab is obstructing the wind." The two shivered and huddled in the corner a little later.

CHAPTER 9 Emma woke to wind. The whistle filled her ears, flooding her skull until her brain threatened to freeze solid. She tried to block the sound, but her hands rose in fitful spasms from where they were buried in the snow. They numbed to rigidity before they could go higher than her chest. “H-h-he . . . ”