Chapter 5: Lost in the Woods
Five miles deep into the treacherous Appalachian foothills, a man dragged his shattered leg through the mud. Andrew’s vision was blurring, fading in and out of blackness as a severe concussion wreaked havoc on his brain. He had been crawling for four agonizing days.
Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass, his ribs fractured from the steering wheel impact. The freezing rain had soaked through his thin flannel jacket, bringing the dangerous early stages of hypothermia. He didn't know what day it was anymore.
All he knew was the phantom sound of Ashley’s voice echoing in the howling wind. He kept seeing her pale, frightened face hovering between the towering pine trees. “Daddy, my tummy hurts,” the hallucination whispered, driving him forward when his body begged to die.
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He had tried to follow the creek back to the highway, but the flash flood had swept him miles in the wrong direction. He survived by drinking muddy rainwater from leaves and eating bitter moss scraped from tree bark. His fingernails were torn and bleeding from clawing his way up the steep ravines.
With his last ounce of strength, Andrew spotted the rotting wooden roof of an abandoned hunting cabin. He dragged himself over the threshold, collapsing onto the dusty floorboards as the darkness finally pulled him under. His bloody hand relaxed, revealing a tightly clutched, crumpled photograph of his little girl.
