The makeshift wrap was bulky, but looked like it would hold, and at least I was able to maneuver my pant leg to cover it. Before I attempted to stand again, I searched the ground for a stick that could work as a crutch. I spotted one about ten feet away and slowly scooted myself closer to reach it. It was a painstaking effort to stand up and although my ankle protested my weight, the wrap seemed to be working. I hobbled back to my backpack and pulled out another strip of raincoat so I could tie it to a tree where I had landed.
Leaving my latest pitfall behind, I shuffled along, leaning heavily on my bristly crutch. It didn't take long for my hand to blister from rubbing against the wet wood, but I wrapped it with one of the bright yellow strips of raincoat and moved on. I was over this abuse, but I’d be damned if I was going to let the rugged wilderness beat me down.
It was late afternoon when I reached my next steep decline. Without giving it a second thought, I sat on my bottom and slid down the bumpy path. The rocks bit painfully at my buttocks, but it was better than the alternative. Once I was safely at the bottom and relatively pain free, I allowed myself another small break to drink more water and eat another energy bar. My stomach wasn't exactly feeling up to any food, but I knew I needed any energy source I could get.
After I finished eating, I sat for a moment, looking at the ragged mess my body had become. I don’t know if there was a spot on my body that didn’t have some kind of scrape, cut or bruise. I was soaking wet, covered in filth, and to top it off, one of the blisters on my hand had popped open. Resisting the urge to swear at the heavens again, I remembered Mason, alone and fighting infection. I stood myself upright and continued forward, limping several feet when finally, the trees opened up, revealing a sight that made my heart stop.
Stepping forward cautiously, I nearly wept when my feet stepped onto asphalt. I had done it. One way or another, this road led to something. My steps seemed lighter as I shuffled along the smooth surface. I could do this. All I needed now was a car to come by.
An hour later, I was still walking down the paved road, not a vehicle in sight. My coughing had increased in frequency, pounding my poor head into submission. My steps became more sluggish as I stumbled on, too stubborn to give up. After another hundred yards, or for that matter, it could have been a mile, I was too tired to tell anymore, my body wouldn't allow me to take another step further. Darkness clouded my vision and I sank into oblivion with one thought. Mason. I had failed him.
A loud rumbling noise jerked me awake. Disoriented, I watched as tires screeched to a stop, inches from where I lay.
"Are you Kimberly?" a burly policeman asked, kneeling by my head.
/> I struggled with every last bit of energy I had left to nod.
I could hear him barking our location into his radio as I faded in and out of consciousness. His radio squawked back and Rick's voice came across the line. "You found her?" I heard him ask before I drifted back out.
My eyes fluttered open again several minutes later when the kind policeman scooped me up in his arms. "Don't worry, missy, we're going to get you help," he said, laying me gently on the backseat of his cruiser.
"Mason," I said, fighting my grogginess as he laid a heavy military-style blanket over me.
"We're going to find him," he said, gently pushing me back down as I struggled to sit up.
My coughs were traitorous again as I tried to tell him I knew where Mason was. Somehow, in between the fits I managed to describe how I had marked the path.
"He's in bad shape," I added, fighting to stay awake. "We're not leaving until you find him," I said stubbornly, resting my head on the seat.
I was in a daze when Rick showed up twenty minutes later with a rescue team. "Kimberly," he said, dragging me into his arms.
"Mason's hurt bad. His leg is broken and he's blazing with fever," I said as a new wave of coughs erupted out of me.
"Why haven't you taken her to the hospital?" Rick demanded, turning on the cop.
"She refused to leave until we rescue your boy," the cop answered, looking uncertain.
"Get her to the hospital now," he demanded.
"I want to stay until you bring Mason down," I protested.
"We'll be right behind you, honey," Rick said, attempting to close my door.
"Don't let him die. I love him," I mumbled as the darkness finally dragged me in for good.
***
I was awakened by a hand gently smoothing my hair back. Bright light flooded the space around me and I marveled at the absence of rain. I tried to focus, but my eyes were heavy and I drifted back to sleep. I could hear voices, but I was too tired to make out their words.
The next few days passed in a drug-induced sleep as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I wanted to ask about Mason, but I couldn't manage to stay awake longer than a few minutes at a time.
Finally, on the third day, I was able to open my eyes long enough to hold a conversation. The room I was in had an antiseptic smell, but I welcomed its presence.
"Sweetie," my mom said, leaning over me.
"Mason?" I croaked.
"Oh, sweetie, we've been so worried. Rick, she's awake," my mom said over her shoulder.