Chapter 11
The sun was shining. It never shined. But at sunrise that morning, the clouds cleared just enough for direct light to illuminate Ken and her damaged body. Covered head to toe in scratches, bruising, blood, and grime, Kenna must’ve been a sight to see. A living specter from some horror movie.
Her gait turned to a stagger as the caked-on muck warmed in the rare golden glow. Ken shut off her flashlight at the first sign of day in order to spare the battery. She kept her eyes pointed southwest, toward town. Each step brought more pain. She reeked of blood and dead animal. She wanted to vomit, to shower, and to sleep. But she could do none of that out here—at least not safely—and in a world that rained nearly every day, she couldn’t even get a morning drizzle to help cleanse her of
