“Ah!” his dad breathed fast through
clenched teeth.
Zach had never felt so helpless in his life.
He glanced at his watch. 8:23 a.m. They had
spent the whole night in the cave. Skye lay at
his feet, keeping them warm, but Zach knew
they needed help soon. His whole body was
stiff and cold.
At some point during the night the fire had
gone out and the charred remains sat cold by
the cave entrance.
“Your leg might be infected,” Zach said.
“We need to get you to a doctor in case you
need antibiotics. I need to go for help.”
Zach looked over himself. The cut on his
hand had stopped bleeding, but both hands felt
frostbitten and numb in places. He
also
needed
a doctor.
He checked his hiking boots. The fire
had dried them earlier, but Zach’s feet had
already suffered damage from the cold
and ice inside his boots. He didn’t know
how far he could make it on his sore and
frozen feet.
74
