I am hungry and thirsty and drained of all strength, but I cannot stay where I am. I cannot let myself die. I need to get to June. I move as quickly as I can and make it up the ridge. I do not slow as I glance quickly from one direction to the next. I must assess my position fast. Time is running out. I am uncertain of my exact location and am forced to choose without true consideration. I cannot survey the area and find my tracks to follow back. I think of my father and wish he were with me. His face flashes in my mind’s eye along with June’s as I turn and race in the direction I hope is a familiar one, the one that leads back to the cave. Day is surrendering to dusk, and the sky is a pale shade of violet. It is a lovely color I have never seen before, and never want to see again, not alone in the middle of the woods as I am now. I pump my arms as I run. Wind rushes in my face and is the only relief I feel. There is not a part of me that does not hurt. My heart is beating so fast I hear it echoing in my ears. Branches slash my arms and legs, and vines tug at my feet as I run for my life. A stitch stings my ribs and demands that I slow, but slowing is not an option. I continue, my feet pacing my heart. I pass a clustering of poisonous berry bushes and feel confident I have seen them before, on my hike to the lake. The sight is welcome. It means I am heading in the right direction. Time still remains a problem though. The last rays of sunlight bleed around the horizon line as it is devoured by the landscape. As the sky deepens in color, the likelihood of me being swarmed by a pack of hungry Lurkers increases with it.
