Ryan had been wandering for a few weeks now and he was on his way to New York. He had heard that there were people like him and if he wanted to learn more he should head there. It was a constant struggle to get food and water, but his worst problem was one he couldn't solve.
"God damn it! It's so fucking cold!" He pulled his sweater and jacket around him tightly and kicked a nearby trash can in frustration. It fell over and a slight indent was made in it. It had already begun to frost over just from the miniscule amount of contact he made with it. He looked at himself and noticed he was making footprints of snow again. He growled and continued walking. He had asked a few locals which way New York was, but he was still lost. 
"I fucking hate life." He muttered to himself as he continued walking. He heard some gunshots and considered running away. He instead made a decision he would regret for the rest of his life. He ran towards the gunshots. What he saw, words could not describe. The closest thing he could call it was a slaughter. One of the people with guns saw him and began shooting. 'I don't want to die.' He covered his face with his arms and waited for the end. But it didn't come. He opened his eyes and saw that ice had covered the shooters and the bullets were actually frozen. He picked one of them up and shattered it. "I guess this has it uses after all. And I'm not so cold anymore either. Huh." He looked up and frowned. "Damn my sense of morality." He then rushed into the building to go save lives.