Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,74
extensive. Tristan’s strategy so far had worked like a charm. They didn’t expect her to double back, rather to run like a scared animal, something she wasn’t. She had to stay focused and calm or there was going to be no way out of this.
She kept moving, feeling that any moment a bullet could rip into her back. As the afternoon wore on, Amber started to flag. She stopped, taking a brief rest. She needed water. She remembered what Tristan had said about eating the snow. She thought for a moment, not wanting to sacrifice her gloves or her hat to use as a container.
Then it occurred to her. Her bra! It would be perfect. She could pack the snow into one of the cups.
She made quick work at getting it off and getting the snow inside. Her fingers were numb when she finished. Tucking them back into her gloves, she warmed them under her armpits. The wind whipped at her, and she gritted her teeth as it froze the exposed skin of her face. As soon as most of the numbness had gone, she grabbed up the bra water sling, and pressed it to her lips. She sucked and the warmth of her mouth melted the snow. She drank for several seconds, then she was up and running again.
When the day slipped into afternoon, she realized that something had to have happened to Tristan. He should have been here by now. She closed her eyes against the worry and the anguish, hoping against all hope that he was all right. The thought of this world without him in it was too bleak for her to handle.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, Amber was exhausted, sweaty and starving. Her energy was lagging and she worried Garza and his buddies were catching up to her. If she was cold, then Garza was, too.
But the cold, the fear, the constant movement was taking its toll. She wasn’t going to make the cave by nightfall, and it looked like Tristan wasn’t going to make it to her. She stopped and leaned against a tree, laboring.
A shot rang out and hit the tree near her resting hand. She took off, slipping down the other side of the hill, her heart pounding. She looked toward the sky. Dusk was falling, but the sun hadn’t touched the horizon yet. She scrambled along the ravine, going sideways instead of trying to labor up the other side. Spying a copse of trees, she headed for the shelter and ducked inside. The ravine was now covered in shadow and it would be much harder for them to pick up her tracks. She ran through the woods, using the trees as natural barriers, her breath sobbing out of her. As she broke out the other side, the sun had touched the horizon and she was safe for the night.
She bent over double, her lungs feeling compressed, her heart racing. Oh, God. Where are you, Tristan?
She took a much-needed breather, but as soon as the sun went down, it was going to get much colder. Her feet were numb, but not painfully so. It was time to make shelter, but she wondered fleetingly if she should take the chance and try to make it to the stream and the cave.
She figured she had to be close. But navigating this terrain at night…she wasn’t sure. Cold prickled along her skin, and the sweat from her body had dampened her clothes. There was nothing else for her to do. She had to press on. Even with a snow shelter, she didn’t think she would survive the night. Already, she was feeling lethargic and a bit muddled.
She did some jumping jacks to get her blood flowing, decision made. She was pressing on, taking no chances Garza would be true to his word.
She dropped to a brisk walk, winded and exhausted. As it darkened, she had to slow to a crawl. Once the moon rose, the almost fullness of it lent her the light she needed to see.
Everything was cold by the time she stumbled into the stream, water splashing, reviving her. She stopped and just swayed there. Beyond empty, her body throbbed with a stiffness that seemed to reach down to the very marrow of her bones. She looked around, almost confused as to where she was, why she was out here. The only things her mind could grasp on to was that if she kept moving, she would be warm. She crossed