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ABBYShe was fading fast. I could feel the life draining out of her. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d mentally gone through everything I had in my bag, but I doubted anything in there would help Sahra. It was the bag I took to sick cats and dogs, not a first aid bag full of bandages, sutures and whatever else I needed to treat her wounds. I’d thought about giving her painkillers, but I’d been afraid that it would harm her rather than help. And now she was unconscious. Her breathing was laboured. Her lips were stained with blood that she’d coughed up.
Sahra was dying.
I needed to get help. But how? The storm hadn’t lessened which meant her wristband would still not get a signal. I could try and get out of the cave some other way - the katzerel had to have come from some
