Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [58]
“Should we get moving?”
“Are you up to it?”
Rachel heaved a sigh and pushed herself up. “If I have to be.” Exhaustion saturated Rachel’s movements. Even if she got up, she wasn’t going to go far.
“Nah. That was faint. The wind probably carried it several miles.” Liz rubbed her arms against the chill, hoping she was right.
Hopefully, a short break would reenergize them. Right now it took everything she had to stay focused on getting through the night. She didn’t know what she would do when the sun crested the trees, revealing miles more of forest. They could wander for days. Weeks.
Liz shut down that line of thought.
Focus on something tangible.
She sat down next to Rachel, leaning into her, sharing her warmth.
Focus on the morning. Go from there.
Rachel’s head hit her shoulder and Liz snapped her eyes open. She hadn’t even been aware she’d closed them. Stretching her stiff legs out in front of her, cold dread slid into her mind, forcing her completely awake. How long had she slept?
She glanced down at her watch. Twenty minutes or so.
Thank God it wasn’t longer.
“Rach, come on. We can’t sleep yet.”
Rachel’s eyes blinked open.
“Come on, we need to get moving again.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.” Liz hoisted herself from the ground, groaning as aching muscles stretched and protested against the strain and cold. “Come on.” She extended a hand to Rachel and pulled her to her feet.
They walked in silence for a long time, moonlight streaming through the trees, lighting their path. As they crested the top of a steep hill, Rachel stopped and bent at the waist, panting heavily. Liz understood why, her legs burned and cramped, every step forward reminded her harshly of every step behind her.
“I’ve got to rest, Lizzy.” Rachel wheezed out. “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to take a break.”
“Okay.” Liz tried to get her bearings. She couldn’t see or hear the river anymore. They needed to find it again. Not only did she hope it would lead to civilization, but it kept them from walking around in circles.
“Alright, you take a break. I’m going to take a look at what’s up there,” Liz said, pointing up the incline that rose to their left. “Maybe I can figure out which way to go.”
“Okay.” Rachel didn’t move from where she leaned against a tree, her eyes closed and her face pale.
Liz gripped her elbow and shook her until she opened her eyes. “We’ll take a break, Rach. But don’t sit down and don’t fall asleep, okay?”
Rachel’s forehead furrowed and she shook her head.
“I know you’re tired. But if you sit down your muscles are going to get cold and cramp again.”
Rachel opened her eyes, but didn’t respond.
“I know it’s tempting to sit, but it’s only going to hurt more when we get moving again. Rest, but stay on your feet, okay?” Liz pressed.
Rachel closed her eyes again and leaned more heavily into the tree behind her.
“Rachel?” Liz squeezed her arm, unwilling to leave until she’d extracted a promise.
“Fine.”
Relieved, Liz stepped back. “I’m not going far.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I won’t be long.”
Rachel didn’t respond but she stayed on her feet.
Good enough.
It took her the better part of fifteen minutes to crest the top; she’d had to use her hands to pull herself up the top third of the hill in places to keep from slipping.
She stretched, breathed out hard, and watched her breath fog and float away on the air. Below her moonlight glinted and shined like light reflected off hammered silver. The river flowed, fast and wide beneath her, less than a half-mile away. She followed its snaking mass, tracking its path until it faded into the dark horizon.
Just before the river passed beyond the range of her vision, two tiny spots of yellow, not unlike a predator’s night-eyes appeared, seeming to float above the water, slowly growing larger.
A car! A bridge, unidentifiable in the dark,