Chase's focus and adrenaline had carried him quite well for the first half of the journey down the hill. There was anticipation in every bend on the path, expecting and hoping that any second he'd see a group of people heading up the hill towards him. That he'd see Kiley. His determination was still working well for him, and he hadn't thought once about turning back, but he was tired, and sweating profusely, and fuck did his foot hurt. He was thankful for the walking stick, but now the ache in his hand and arm from clenching it was getting almost as bad as his ankle, at least when he wasn't jarring it slightly anywhere but straight ahead. He'd gotten used to wincing and hissing every few minutes when he did that, and had stubbornly decided that he wasn't going to stop walking for a few seconds while the pain passed.
He'd almost laughed with relief when the painted over sign appeared, until he remembered just how far the diner was. The cemetery was closer, but he doubted that they'd still be there in this cold. And he was cold, at least all of the parts that weren't covered by his winter gear. The rest of him was boiling and covered in sweat from exertion, and he wondered how it was actually possibly to be both at once. He walked until he saw the police station, then turned and headed down main street, knowing that it was a straight shot right to the diner. The fact that he could even see the building from his position, as far as it still was, brought a new wave of adrenaline. He hobbled faster, half contemplating abandoning the stick entirely now that a straight path meant he could more easily keep his foot from turning.
Almost there. His eyes squinted to see across the distance the best he could, though he could already tell that it was too bright outside to see anything through any of the windows in the buildings nearby. Kiley would be there. She had to be there.