She tried to reach the nearest backpack with her foot, but it was just out of reach. She looked up again. Not long before sunrise.

She stepped back into the crevice and leaned against the hill, assessing how much shadow they could share. There was no time to dig a tunnel. She thought of teeth ripping skin. How much damage could one feral do against two humans without weapons? Suppose there was more than one? She wanted to feel rage instead of fear.

“Look at what’s holding the rock in place!” Bibi shouted from above. Sorrel swore under her breath and with her hand, traced the line of the rock until it met the dirt. A small shower of soil dislodged itself, and she could feel a shallow hole. She dug with her fingers and touched something hard. She peered at it, bringing her face close. “There’s a tree root,” she called to Bibi. “There must’ve been a tree here once and the rock washed up against it.” She traced the shape of the root with her fingers. It was massive.

Sorrel started to scrape away the dirt.

“What’re you doing now?” Bibi called.

“I don’t know. But the soil feels so loose, maybe there’s –”

The dusty soil cascaded around her feet as she began to follow the roots of the tree with her fingers. They went up, up, and made an arch above her head, connecting with the rock. If they dug some more…

“Come down, Bibi! You were right. Maybe we can fit – come help me!”

Her mother slid down almost knocking Sorrel into the open.

“Can you dig?” Sorrel said. “I could try and reach the closest backpack. Maybe find the knife inside.”

“Be careful.” Bibi began scraping away dirt with her hands.

It was getting lighter. Sorrel felt breathless. The canine saw her and rose to its feet, growling. It began slinking towards her, back arched, head low. One backpack could be reached with just three long strides. She took a few deep breaths, pushed down dread, and raced into the open. She scooped up the backpack and turned on her heel. She heard the scrabble of the feral’s feet coming for her. Two more strides and she was behind the rock. Sweat poured off her face and she thought she would faint.

“Good job, One,” Bibi said, reaching for the pack. “Go inside. Rest.” She gestured at the space she had carved out under the roots of the giant old tree. “Leave the other pack out there. It’ll soon lose interest. One thing about alganola, ferals don’t think it’s food.”

Sorrel eased herself sideways into the crumbly space, her chest heaving. It was just big enough for both of them. They sat cross-legged, facing each other. She leaned her back against the earth and unwound her water bottle. “Don’t drink it all,” Bibi said.