Page 2 of Surviving Her

“No, no, no,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. Her hands trembled as she brushed away the dirt and leaves. Her father was unconscious. River recoiled as her eyes were drawn to his pale, slack face. He had a deep gash across his forehead. As she tried to stop the blood oozing from the wound with her sleeve, a wave of nausea rose in her throat.

“Oh, Daddy, wake up. Wake up, Daddy,” she begged, shaking him by the shoulder. There was no response. Panic surged through her as she did her best to remember what he’d taught her to do in an emergency.

“Assess the damage. Assess…assess,” she muttered to herself, barely able to think. “Okay. How do I assess? What does that mean? What do I do?”

Her father’s left leg had been hit by the trunk as it fell, though thankfully the tree had rolled just enough that he wasn’t still pinned under it. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. River noticed what she assumed was his bone jutting through the skin. The sight was horrifying. A pool of blood surrounded him, its bright scarlet hue slowly soaking into the brown mud.

“No, Daddy. You’re losing too much blood. Stop bleeding!” she shouted, her voice rising with panic.

River tried not to panic at the full extent of his injuries. Her mind screamed at her to act, to do something,anything, but she was frozen in a state of absolute helplessness.

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered, taking off her shirt and placing it against the wound, being careful not to press it too hard. Her hands soon became slick with blood, and she knew it wasn’t enough. She needed help.

“Stay with me,” she urged, leaning forward and feeling for a pulse on his neck. “I feel you. I got you, Dad. You’re still with me. I’ll get you out of here. I promise. Just have faith.”

River watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Keep breathing. Just keep breathing, Daddy.

And then she heard a sound. It was quiet at first, just the faintest moan. But it sounded like the sweetest music she’d ever heard. He was still with her.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tears choking her voice. “Don’t speak. Just breathe. Stay awake.” Her father had taught her so much about survival, first aid, how to act in an emergency…so why couldn’t she get a handle on this? She needed to accept the severity of his injuries in order to help him.

Right, get a grip, Riv. What can I see? What can I do? His ribs must have broken…

River stared down at her father’s face and tried to examine the deep gash.

Fluttering eyes, shallow breathing, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Please, you have to wake up,” she pleaded. But he remained still, his body slack and unresponsive. River’s heart pounded. She was going to lose him.

The storm continued to rage around her, and the wind sounded like it was laughing at her helplessness as she tried to come up with a solution. She knew she had to move him. She had to get him inside the cabin somehow, but the thought of lifting him, especially with his injuries, was terrifying. But what choice did she have?

River forced herself to focus as she gritted her teeth. Her father’s blood loss was the most immediate danger. She pressed a little harder on her makeshift bandage. The fabric was soaked. She had to find something more robust to bind the wound, something that would stop the bone from moving any farther.

The cabin wasn’t far. But under the circumstances, it might as well have been ten miles away. Leaving her father felt so wrong, but River knew there was no other option. She stood up, the wind whipping her hair as she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other as she bolted for the cabin.

She pushed the door open and raced to the kitchen, yanking open drawers until she found a roll of thick gauze, some adhesive tape, and a pair of scissors. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she grabbed a thick towel to make a splint.

Clutching the supplies to her chest, she ran back out into the storm, nearly tripping on the porch steps as she hurried to her father’s side. He hadn’t moved, his breathing still shallow, and River’s heart ached at the sight of him.

“I’m right here, Dad. I’m here,” she said, kneeling beside him. Her voice was steady, but her veins throbbed as adrenalinecoursed through her body. She tore off a strip of gauze and wrapped it firmly around his leg in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“Just hold on. I’m begging you,” she whispered, tying off the already blood-soaked gauze. Next, she wrapped the towel around his leg and secured it with some of the tape. It was the most basic splint imaginable, and she knew her father would be barking instructions at her if he could and telling her where she’d gone wrong, but it was the best she could manage.

River needed to get him inside. She gently touched his shoulder, trying to rouse him.

“Dad? You have to wake up now. Open your eyes,” she begged. For a moment, his eyelids fluttered, but then a soft groan escaped his lips and he fell silent again.

River knew that she could no longer allow her fear to paralyze her. Her father’s life depended on what she did next. She shifted her position, sliding her arms under his shoulders. She braced herself and lifted, sweat pouring from her forehead as she pulled him free from the debris. He was so much heavier than she’d anticipated, and his limp body was a total dead weight.

With a strength born of desperation, River finally dragged her father clear of the tree. Every muscle in her body burned with the effort as she started to drag him across the ground.

I can’t do this.

River’s mind spun into overdrive. She couldn’t control her thoughts. But as she took a gulp of air, she tried to push aside her fear with all the force she could muster. This wasn’t about what she could or couldn’t do. It was about what shehadto do. It was as simple as that.

“One step at a time,” she said through clenched teeth. “Just keep moving.”

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