Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- Author’s Note
- Glossary
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Acknowledgments
It took Faye three attempts to hook the creeper vine around the branch. She finally managed it by holding onto the creeper while climbing into the neighbouring tree. With the branch hooked by the creeper, she climbed down and tied the leaves out of the way. The dripping stopped.
“At last,” she said. It was almost dark and, although she was warm from her efforts, Faye knew that it wouldn’t be long before she felt the cold of her wet clothes.
“I’m done,” she called, turning towards where she’d left Clare, but the young woman wasn’t there.
“Clare?” she called again, walking towards the fallen tree and looking around.
Clare was lying parallel to the log, her breathing fast and shallow, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“What happened?” said Faye, crouching alongside her.
“I saw you struggling and wanted to help.”
“You fell trying to stand up? Trying to walk to me?”
“I don’t know,” she sniffed. “I tried to move but everything went black. My God, it’s sore.”
Clare’s arm shook as she held it above her chest. Faye swallowed. She was afraid of what might be happening to the girl, how her broken ribs might’ve punctured her lungs, or worse, damaged her heart. She had to get her out of the rain and into the shelter.
“Will you try and stand with me here to help you?” she asked.
Clare nodded.
“We’re going to take it really slowly. Rest whenever you need to. It’s not far to go and we’ll get there if we’re careful.”
“Why would I have passed out again?”
Faye exhaled. “I don’t know. Shock. Exhaustion. You’re sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“I’m sure.”
Holding onto Faye on one side and the log on the other, Clare was able to stand. They made their way to the shelter. Once there, Faye helped Clare to the ground where, in a sitting position, she inched backwards under the branches.
“You mustn’t lie flat,” said Faye.
“Really? I’d like to.”
“No. You’ll breathe better if you stay propped up. Rest your back against those leaves.”
After fetching her backpack, Faye crawled in alongside Clare.
They sat side-by-side, listening to the lilting sound of the rain high above on the canopy and the plunking of the larger drops as they landed on the muddy earth closer by. The air was still and the light fading. Clare shivered. Faye dug into her bag and unwrapped her space blanket.
“Are you okay,” she asked.
“Yes. It’s, erm, cosy.”
“Well,” said Faye, “at least there are no bats in the belfry.”
Fifteen
Fifteen