“Clare?” Faye’s head and torso filled the opening of the shelter. “Are you awake?”

“Ye-es.” She was unable to disguise the tremble in her voice.

Faye crawled under the branches and knelt alongside her. “How are you feeling?”

“Still can’t move. It’s crazy how it hurts and how tired I am. It’s as if I’ve run too far on too little.”

Faye pressed her lips together. Clare recognised a flicker of concern in her eyes. It was an expression she’d seen on her parents’ faces often in recent years. She glanced down and saw that Faye’s neck and the exposed part of her chest were streaked with deep scratches, some of them oozing. The front of her pale green shirt was bloody. Her neck and chest were scratched raw, as if someone had clawed at her with their fingernails.

“What happened? You’re—”

“It’s okay. Looks worse than it is. Let’s just say the thorn bush wasn’t as welcoming as I hoped it would be when I tried to embrace it.”

“But—”

“Really. I’m okay.”

“Did you find my father? Is he—”

“Yes. He’s gone to find help. He’ll come . . . send help.”

“They were still at Grootkloof Cabin? You managed to cross the river and get to them?”

“Yes and no. Your father and Derek were still there. Derek hurt his back during the crossing two days ago. He couldn’t go on. Your dad stayed with him. The others went to find help, and us, they hoped, yesterday. As luck would have it—God, that was lucky—your dad happened to be at the river—it’s still in flood—when I arrived. He’s gone to get help for us.”

“There was no way he could cross the river . . . come to . . . with you?”

“No, it’s still too full. Raging. An escape route is the only way out. Even if it wasn’t, it’s quicker for your dad to find help from that side.”

“How will they get to us? Do you know?”

“A helicopter.”

“Really?”

Clare had accepted she was badly injured. Even so, the idea of being rescued by helicopter embarrassed her. She’d joined her father and his friends on the hike at the last minute hoping for a low-key, peaceful time. Instead, she was the centre of attention and the subject of a rescue mission.

“It’s the only way. I made a large cross in the veld using rocks and branches to create arrows pointing this way so they can easily find us.”

“When do you think they will come?”

“Tomorrow. I hope.”

They were quiet for a moment. Clare thought about the previous night. How she’d slept for the first part and then lain awake, desperate to move but even more so to remain still.

“Just one more night,” said Faye, as if reading her thoughts.