The sun was high in the sky when Alison sleepily opened her eyes. A shot of adrenaline hit her system when she moved and felt herself tipping into nothingness. She grabbed the tree branch and steadied herself, now fully awake. That was close, she thought as memories of the previous night flooded her mind. As she sat on her perch, two things fought for her immediate attention. One, she had to pee. And two, she was hungry and thirsty.
Climbing out of the tree, she took care of the first need, then rummaged in her pack for water and her last protein bar. Realizing she had very little water left, she ate the protein bar then sipped half of her remaining water. I need to get home.
Checking that the documents were still secure in her pack she shrugged into it and began the last portion of her journey. Glancing at the position of the sun, she figured it was late midmorning, maybe noon. She should make it to the house in a couple hours if all went well. More quickly if she pushed it. Her first few steps were a little wobbly until her limbs loosened up. While she hadn’t been in this area of the property for a while, she had a good sense of where she was in relationship to where she needed to go. She struck out at a lively pace.
An hour later, she was moving slower. She’d finished her water and was feeling the effects of needing more but not having any. She stopped and scanned the area for recognizable landmarks. I should be getting close. Maybe over that next small rise. With a bit of hope she increased her speed. But it seemed like no matter how much ground she covered she never got any closer to her objective. She was starting to feel the first bit of hopelessness when she spotted buildings in the distance. Yes!
She started jogging towards the buildings. Unfortunately, her attention was on the buildings and not on the ground she was covering. Her foot hit an unexpected indentation and she overbalanced her stride, falling face first into the dirt.
“Ooomph!” Her breath rushed from her body.
As she lay there trying to get her breath, she did a mental inventory, moving each arm and leg to test for injury. All seemed well until she wiggled her right ankle.
“Arrrghh!” she muttered when pain shot through her brain. “This can’t be good.”
Thinking through the basic field first-aid they’d all been taught, she tried to remember whether she should take her shoe off or leave it on. She couldn’t remember. She looked around. There was nothing she could use as a crutch, and she could tell she wouldn’t be able to easily walk on the ankle unassisted. She looked towards the buildings. They seemed miles away. She knew they weren’t, but that didn’t stop the small sob that left her.
“Get a grip, girl. You’re almost there. You can do this,” she said aloud, hoping the words would bolster her spirits.
They didn’t. At least not much. Sighing, she shrugged out of her pack and started rummaging through it for the duct tape she knew she had. Finding it, she began wrapping her ankle, shoe included, to provide extra support. If some is good, lots is better, she thought as she continued wrapping. Finally deciding she’d done all she could, she slid the pack onto her shoulders and attempted standing. Balancing on her good leg, she took stock of her situation. So far so good. Now let’s see if I can put weight on it.
She tentatively shifted her weight over to her right foot. It hurt, but it was bearable. Now for a step. Shifting her weight completely to her right foot, she moved her left forward. Pain shot up her right leg causing her to quickly shift her weight back to her left, hopping a bit in the process. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. This time, being prepared for the pain, she muscled through it.
Looking towards the buildings and calculating the distance, the feeling of hopelessness began again. Too far away to yell for assistance, yet too close to give up the effort, she shuffled along mentally repeating a mantra with each step. Slow and steady. Slow and steady.
She’d only gone a dozen steps when she had to stop. Awkwardly sitting down to rest, she wished she had more water. If wishes were riches. She smiled. That was one of her mom’s favorite sayings. Thinking of her mom gave her the energy she needed to stand. Only the winner brings home the documents.
She continued towards the buildings in her awkward shuffle, attempting to protect her right ankle as much as she could. When she judged she was finally close enough for her voice to carry, she began yelling. When that produced no results, she reached for the whistle secured to the front strap of her pack. Alternating between the whistle and her yells, she continued to slowly shuffle forward.
She thought she saw the back door open. Focusing intently on the door, she saw Sam step through.
“Sam! Help!” she yelled just as she overbalanced on her left leg.
Falling to the ground, she fought back the tears. She didn’t know if they were tears of pain, relief, or something else. By the time Sam reached her she was fully sobbing.
Sam bent down and scooped her up into his arms.
“I’ve got ya, little ninja.” He hugged the sobbing girl to his chest. “C’mon now. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let’s get you inside.”
Sam carried Alison back to the house and set her on the couch. Helping her out of her pack, he continued to comfort her with his words while he checked her over. Seeing her taped ankle and foot, he lifted her legs and rotated her so that both feet were resting on the couch. He grabbed a pillow and put it under her right foot, then grabbed another and tucked it behind her back to support her half-sitting position.
“Sit tight. I’ll get you some water.”
As he entered the kitchen, he saw the walkie-talkie on the table. Picking it up he clicked the button twice then spoke into it.
“All clear. All clear. The pigeon has come home to roost. I say again, the pigeon has come home to roost.”
He brought a large glass of water and watched as Alison guzzled it down. He gently wiped away the last of her tears, smiling at the smeared camouflage paint.
“You look a mess.”
Handing him the glass, she looked at him with a frown.
“Could you at least have called me an eagle? I don’t want to be a pigeon.”
With that, she closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep. He watched her for a few seconds making sure her breathing was natural and not labored. Then he covered her with a light blanket. He’d let the parents look at her ankle. Best to just let her rest for now.