Faye looked around for the shadows she’d imagined might transform into unwieldy shapes with fangs and claws. They were nowhere to be seen and she was not afraid. Moments ago, she’d chastised herself for being helpless and insubstantial. But Faye had built a shelter in the forest. Clare was injured, dangerously so, but Faye had worked out how to protect her, acted on it and, for the moment, they were both alive and dry. She wanted to sit up, punch the air and call out in victory. Instead, Faye smiled and closed her eyes. She should sleep. Faye wasn’t afraid and if she wasn’t afraid here and now, in the middle of the night in a forest in the wilderness with a gravely injured girl depending on her, why should she be afraid of anything that might lie ahead?

The sun etched the edges of the clouds on the horizon. Faye looked over her boots through the trees towards the glow. Night had passed and she had slept. She sat up and glanced at Clare.

“You’re awake. Are you okay?”

The girl’s face was pale with a bluish tinge and her breathing laboured, but she gave Faye a small smile. “Yes. No, I don’t think I am.”

“Even more painful than yesterday?”

She barely nodded. “So uncomfortable to breathe. A bit woozy.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes. Several hours, I think.”

Faye pressed her lips together. The girl shouldn’t move. A punctured lung could explain her colouring and the light-headedness: she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. There was no option. Faye would have to leave her to find help, and she’d need to get going soon.

She peeled an orange, handed it over, and was pleased when Clare ate it and an energy bar, followed by painkillers and water. The bottle needed refilling. Faye looked outside.

“Look, it’s stopped raining. I’m going–”

“Shh,” said Clare, staring out of the shelter into the trees.

Faye stared at her. Was the girl hallucinating? She turned and followed her gaze.

The sunlight glistened on the manes of the wild pigs who, twenty metres or so away, were snuffling and rootling in the undergrowth. They gave no indication of sensing the women’s presence.

“My friends,” whispered Faye. “You see, they exist.”

Clare’s mouth curved into a tiny smile and she nodded.

They counted seven large animals and four piglets who tip-toed in a line through the brushwood. They were quiet but for the muted sounds of their trotters and rummaging in vegetation and earth. Clare and Faye watched until the animals disappeared from sight.

Clare closed her eyes. “We haven’t missed out on everything on this trip then.”

“I know what you mean.” Faye turned to face her. “I’m going to go now. First to get more water and then to find help.”

“Shouldn’t I try—”

“No. I don’t think you should move.”