trees to whatever terrors lay below.
“I’m scared,” Eno said. She sounded
farther and farther away. At last, Lyth-
cott came to rest in a tiny depression
on the hillside where he could grasp a
tree root. There, in his nook, an eerie
calm came over him. If he was going
to die, let it be like this, in a peaceful
place. Let him close his eyes and allow
it to take him over.
No, he scolded himself. Stop think-
ing that way. You have to save your-
self. You have to save Stacey.
But how would anyone find them?
If only he hadn’t lost his phone in
the wreck. Then he remembered—he
had a second phone, the one with hisFinally he remembered his compan-
ion. “Stacey!” She didn’t answer. “Sta-
cey, where are you?” His voice came
out surprisingly quiet. He’d learn later
that both his lungs had collapsed.
“I’m right here.”
She was only a few feet away. Lyth-
cott dragged himself toward her
through the darkness until he was
beside her.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” she
said. “Why are we in the woods?”
“We were in an accident. Can you
move?”
“No.”
“Stacey, I need you to get up and
walk and get us help.”
“I can’t.”
This jolted Lythcott. No one knew
they were there. They couldn’t walk.
His back was probably broken. He
was bleeding out. I think we might die
here, he thought.
Making matters worse, he had be-
gun sliding downhill along the wet
jungle floor past thick-trunked banyan
They couldn’t walk.
He was bleeding out.
I think we might
die here, he thought.rd.com 79Drama in Real Life