Stranded by Blayne Cooper

Author:Blayne Cooper [Cooper, Blayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Lesbian, Contemporary, Romance, General
ISBN: 9781883523923
Google: iY3cPQAACAAJ
Publisher: Bella Distribution
Published: 2009-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Over the next dozen hours Nora's condition worsened and she began to shiver violently. With my heart in my throat, I'd reluctantly peeled back the filthy bandages on her leg, expecting to see something out of a horror movie. Instead, what I found was that amazingly, and despite the grunge and grime, the cut didn't look infected. The skin hadn't knit back together yet, but even normal cuts took days to heal. And this one was a doozy.

It was the fever that worried me now. With only a few weak aspirin tablets from the first-aid kit to try to stave it off, it was determined to run its full course. And it was taking Nora on one hell of a ride. I'd never seen someone have such a dreadful night. Chills, hallucinations, nightmares, confusion… Eventually, though, Nora settled into a fitful sleep, too exhausted to do anything else.

The source of her fever remained a mystery, and during the few minutes that I wasn't worrying to death, I wondered if it would claim Miranda or me as victims as well.

Rain pounded all around us and puddles formed at the edges of our camp. We'd accidentally chosen high ground and so, for now, it didn't appear as though we'd be washed away in the night. We'd left everything we could think of out in the rain in the hopes of capturing some drinking water. Canteens, cups, even our thin microfiber towels and clean cotton T-shirts that we could wring out in the morning. With our junk spread out and clothes hanging haphazardly across the bushes, our camp looked like trailer trash heaven.

Nora and I remained dry as we lay safely beneath one of the rainflies in side-by-side hammocks. Alongside us were two big piles of dry sticks and a few sizeable pieces of wood that would serve as tomorrow's firewood.

We might be lame campers, but we were learning fast.

The other rainfly had been fashioned into a giant bucket to collect the rain. And even after I'd nagged Miranda like an old woman to take her place under the rain fly with me and Nora, the stupid-ass teenager had her own ideas.

She had insisted that she couldn't stand how filthy she was and that she wanted whatever shower the rain could provide. So for half the night she'd slept gingerly on her back on the platform bed with only a mosquito net for protection and a poncho draped over the back of her head to keep the rain from going up her nose and in her mouth.

How was I going to explain to her parents that their daughter had survived a horrendous auto accident that really should have killed us all, only to suffocate, or maybe drown, while camping? I couldn't. Thankfully, Miranda had spared me that trial by finally deciding she was clean enough. She dragged her makeshift bed to rest on the other side of Nora, which made us as close as three peas in a pod.

The rain had doused

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