Mary Connealy by Golden Days

Author:Golden Days
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Amy twisted and clawed at the cliff. A stunted tree grew out of the rock. Her chest slammed into it. The tree crackled, and the limbs cut her hands as she scrabbled for a hold. The impact jerked her fingers free, and she fell again.

A protruding rock jabbed her belly. Amy grunted at the blow, fighting to draw a breath. She hung draped over the rock, head and feet hanging down. The world swayed. The narrow rock under her belly gave her no room to balance. She began to slide feet first off the ledge. She grabbed at the jagged wall beside her, shredding her palm.

Her gaze darted around. A little crack in the rock formed a V. Amy’s left hand clawed at the fissure. Her other arm swung in a wild arc over the long drop.

Her battered fingers slipped from the niche. She clenched her fist and punched it into the fissure, ripping flesh. Her weight locked her fist in the narrow opening. The protruding rock now pressed against her face.

Her body hung, suspended from one arm, wrenching her shoulder. For a sickening second, only that tremulous fist stood between her and death. Her strength wouldn’t have held her. The rock pinched her fist tight, trapping her, saving her.

Amy turned her face away from the scraping rock and looked down. Below her kicking, dangling feet was a sheer drop of a hundred feet. Dizziness swept over her. Nausea twisted her stomach. She wrenched her head sideways to block her vision, choosing to focus on the rough rock scraping her cheek rather than the sickening knowledge of just how far she’d fall if her hand gave way.

With her other hand, she found a lip on the protruding rock and grabbed hold.

She fought her way back onto the tiny ledge. Once steady, she realized the rock she’d hit cut back into the cliff a few inches. Sliding into the indentation, she found a secure spot.

Careful not to lose her balance, she turned her back to the cliff and pressed against the rocks. Once tucked into the little cleft, she worked her hand free of the crack that had saved her. Looking up, she saw the cliff overhang.

Her stomach burned from the blow against the ledge. Blood streamed off her knuckles, and both her palms bled from frantically clinging to the stunted tree. Her blunt nails were torn and bleeding. Pain radiated from her face where it had ground against stone. When she gingerly touched her throbbing cheek, her fingertips came away stained scarlet with blood. Her back, undamaged in the fall, burned with the feel of shoving hands.

Someone had tried to kill her. A wave of dizziness almost upset her balance, and she forced her mind to remain clear. She had to think.

Wait on the Lord.

God chided her for striking out on her own after the meal. Or did He mean that she should wait now? Don’t climb to safety. Wait for help.

She decided it meant the first. God had tried to warn her that the woods held danger for her.

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