Solma crashes out of the forest and has to cartwheel her arms to regain balance before she collides with the electrified fence. She rights herself before her nose skims one of the wires.
“Ig?” she calls. The boy’s so slow. He’s dragged his feet the whole way and he tripped over something and went sprawling in the leaf litter about twenty minutes ago. “Ig? Which is the safe part, again?”
No answer.
“Ig?”
Solma glances behind her and curses when there’s no sign of him. Earth, how is it possible for him to be so useless? She’s half a mind to leave him. He’ll probably turn up eventually. But the forest looms above her and Solma knows Ig stands no chance against a fully grown redbear.
“Dammit.”
She should go back for him. She doesn’t have time for this.
“When I get hold of you, Ig—” she
