By Sandra Cox
At last, Saturday! I spent it the way I did every weekend, climbing the Blue Ridge. Perhaps not the average pursuit of most girls in my class, but I loved it. The climb exhilarated me, making my blood rush and my pulse pound.
I paused and drew pure, fresh air deep into my lungs. Along with the oxygen, a healthy dose of joy zipped through my system. That must have been why it took me a moment to realize the sunlight had disappeared and the wind picked up.
In seconds, a popup storm descended. One minute my face captured the sun’s rays, the next pellets of rain stung me, leaving the rocks I scaled slippery and dangerous.
As lightning speared, a sheet of water brought several rocks bouncing down the mountain. One hit my hand sending pain shrieking through my system. I lost my
