Oriana thought she heard the echoing bang of a heavy metal door closing in the distance. She held her breath and willed her ears to perk up. Voices, though far away, floated through the mist.
Wait? Is it just my imagination, a delusion brought on by fatigue and hunger? Or could there really be people out here?
Not willing to leave it to chance, she sprinted toward the faint sounds, her body surging with renewed energy. The voices—if real—could belong to backpackers or hunters, and if that was the case, she needed to hurry. They’d be on the move and she needed to catch up to them before they got too far ahead of her to track.
She ignored her body’s fatigue and forced herself on, running against a chilly breeze that hindered her momentum and quickly sapped what little strength she had. But the further she traveled, the worse things got. The very ground began to work against her, inclining beneath her feet while tree roots and the other flora snagged her legs and tangled around her ankles, tripping her up.
The combination of obstacles made it seem as if she was running through molasses.
Oriana leaned forward and urged her protesting legs to navigate the upslope, but it was of no use. She collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping for air.
“Wait! Help!” she cried, but it came out as a raspy croak, her voice stolen by overexertion.
Tears burned her eyes as the bleakness of the situation ate at her, but she couldn’t give up. She had to keep going. She was a fighter.
She began clambering up the slope once more, her fingers clawing at the slick ground to pull her weight up while her toes dug into the damp soil so she wouldn’t backslide. Only a little further to the crest.
Endless minutes passed before she finally reached the top.
She scuttled across and the peered down the other side of the hill. Then, she blinked hard to be sure she hadn’t totally lost her mind.
Below was a clearing. While the fully blooming garden was of interest to her griping stomach, it was what sat at the opposite end of the glade had her heart blossoming with hope. Hidden underneath a canopy of camouflage was a helicopter.
Oriana slowly crawled to her feet, her elation making the painful effort unworthy of notice. But on the first step of her descent, her foot slipped. Momentarily airborne, her ass slammed onto the ground and down she went, sliding toward her salvation.