In the midst of the rescue

As the sun began to rise over the mountain, she stared at the blood covering her hands and wondered what had just happened. Her dog pushed into her side, nose slipping by her face. She tried to get to her feet, but her knees weren’t bending as she wanted.

She checked them. They were fine, they weren’t broken. She just couldn’t bend them to get up.

The dog pushed into her again. The girl tried to push him away. “No.” Where had this blood come from? She couldn’t remember.

She wiped her hands off on her jeans. They looked like she would have to get new ones. Her mother had always told her the ripped jean look was dumb anyway.

Her dog grabbed her, mouth on her arm. “Ow! What are you doing? Stop!”

The dog didn’t stop. He started to pull her. She tried to protest, but she couldn’t. He was strong and she couldn’t get up.

As she began to pass out from the blood loss, the dog dragged her past the corpse of her captor.

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