She stepped around the fallen tree, looking for a chunk of wood that was straight enough and solid enough to work. If she’d had Jack’s knife, she could have sawed down a thin tree or a branch, but as it was... She very much hoped that Jack and his knife were nowhere nearby.Please let us get through the night.
Keeping an eye on the woods, Claire selected a stray branch that seemed straight enough. It took her a few more minutes to find a second one—it felt strangely good to be focused on a task instead of, well, everything. She examined her second-choice branch. The bark was soaked, but that couldn’t be helped.
By the time she returned to their alcove, Mariana had torn strips from the bottom of her flannel and was testing out various ways to knot the sleeves to create a sling, modeling it on herself. Reyva was giving instructions—or, more accurately, criticism. “Yeah, that’s not going to work.... Are you aiming for a straitjacket? Because I still need to be able to use one of my arms.... Okay, that’s better.... No, definitely not like that.”
“I can fix any carburetor you want,” Mariana said, “but textiles aren’t my thing.”
Claire scooted next to them. “Will these work?” She showed them the sticks she’d found. “How do we do this without hurting you?”
Reyva sat up straighter. “Probably can’t.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
“We’ll get out of here and get you to a hospital,” Mariana promised. “And then we’ll both write sappy scribbles in pink ink all over your cast about how awesome you are and how the three of us will be best friends forever and ever. We’ll even dot thei’s with hearts.”
Reyva managed a wan smile. “Don’t you dare.”
Carefully, Claire laid one piece of wood under Reyva’s arm and one on top. “Mariana, you know knots. I’ll hold, and you tie?”
“Um, sure?” Mariana said.
“Just do it tight,” Reyva said. “The more immobile my arm is, the better.” She winced as Mariana wrapped the first strip of flannel around. “Don’t cut off circulation.”
“Sorry!” She tried again.
“Better,” Reyva grunted through gritted teeth.
Mariana tied three strips, and then she used the rest of the shirt to put it in a sling, tying the sleeves around the back of Reyva’s neck.
When it was all done, they lay back within the hollow trunk.
The rain had fully stopped now, but night had fallen and shrouded the forest in darkness. This was as far as they’d be able to go for now. Claire shivered. Any elation she felt after finishing the splint faded away fast. She couldn’t help but think of all the problems they faced, all the new and exciting ways they had to die, and the odds that were stacked against them. She thought again of how she’d passed out at the base of the cliff. How was she supposed to do this?
“We should try to sleep,” Claire said. Maybe in the morning,one of them would have an idea for how not to die.Or maybe we’ll wake up dead, she thought. It was funny, but it wasn’t. She wanted to laugh, but if she started, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop.
She scooted down, trying to get comfortable. She was soaked again. And sore. But the crickets were coming out, after the rain. She listened to them chirp and tried not to think about Jack and his father, about her parents and whether they thought she was safely at camp, about how there might not be anyone coming to rescue them, about how they’d lost the bulk of their supplies...
Mariana said softly, “When it came out what my dad had done, I thought that was the worst that could ever happen to me. I thought I’d die from embarrassment. And then when my parents insisted we move, I thoughtthatwas the worst they could ever do to me. But Jack’s father...”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for him,” Reyva said.
“I do,” Mariana said.
Reyva snorted.
“Sort of.” She sighed. “It’s just... he’s dealing with the mess his parent made too.”
“But he made very, very bad choices in how to deal with it,” Reyva said.
“I know.”
“Very bad.”
“I know.”
Claire half smiled. “If we see him again, you can tell himhow much you sympathize while Reyva and I hit him with a large stick.”
“I like that plan,” Reyva said.
