He coughed once more, breathing heavily. His face was flushed; his head was fuzzy. He was pretty sure he was coming down with some sort of fever. Winter had finally struck, and it struck hard. It was almost as if there were a switch, and someone had turned it on full throttle. His clothes were ruined, he couldn't find any steady shelter, and food was becoming an issue. It was now several days since the waterfront incident, and Handy was not doing so well.