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    The shirt full of rocks presented a problem. Kim thought about it for a while. Then, she opened the knot and retied it so that the untorn sleeve was free. She pushed her left hand through the neck hole and out the short sleeve, then slid the bundle up her arm. With the weight of the rocks tugging at her shoulder, she swung the load out of the way against the side of her back.

    She shinnied up the trunk, struggled onto the limb, stood, and began climbing carefully from branch to branch. It wasn’t as easy as she had supposed. Soon, her heart was slamming and she had to fight for air. Stopping to rest, she leaned away from the trunk and peered down. She couldn’t see the ground - just a tangle of lower branches.

    I’m pretty high, she thought.

    Damn high. Jesus.

    Her throat tightened. Her stomach fluttered. Her legs began to tremble. She turned suddenly and hugged the tree. I’m safe up here, she told herself. I’m not going to fall. She reminded herself of her days on the high school gymnastics team. That wasn’t so long ago, she thought. This is no tougher than the uneven parallels. I’ve stayed in pretty good shape.

    She still had to cling to the tree for a while before she found the nerve to relax her hold.

    Just a little bit higher. Don’t look down, and you’ll be okay.

    She got her knee onto the next branch, crawled up, stood on it, swung her foot around the trunk to another, pushed herself higher, and soon the process of climbing occupied all her thoughts, leaving no room for fears of falling.

    When her movements began to sway the upper reaches of the tree, Kim knew she was high enough. She straddled a branch, scooted forward until she was tight against the trunk, and wrapped her legs around it.

    For a long time, she stayed that way. Then, the rocks began to bother her. The sleeve of the T-shirt felt like a hand on her shoulder, trying to drag her backward. Rough edges of rock pushed against her skin through the fabric.

    Easing away from the trunk but still keeping it scissored between her legs, she swung the bag onto her lap. She draped it like saddlebags over a branch just overhead and to the right.

    Relieved of the burden, she inched forward again and embraced the tree.

    Kim dreamed that she was falling, flinched awake, found herself slumping sideways, and clutched the trunk. Cheek pressed to the bark, she saw that morning had come. Dust motes floated in golden rays slanting down through the foliage. Out beyond the branches, she saw the bright green of nearby trees. Tilting her head back, she saw patches of blue, cloudless sky. She heard birds singing, a soft breeze whispering through the pine needles.

    My Christ, she thought, I made it through the night.

    She’d even, somehow, drifted off to sleep some time before dawn.

    She felt numb from the waist down. Hanging onto an upper branch, she stood and held herself steady. Sensation returned to her legs and groin and rump, making them prickle with pins and needles. When they felt normal again, she removed her shorts, climbed to a lower branch and urinated. Returning to her perch, she put her shorts back on. She sat down, one arm around the trunk, and let her legs dangle.

    Now what? she wondered.

    Obviously, she had eluded the Butcher. She wondered if he’d passed this way in the night and kept on going. Maybe he’d never even come close.

    Maybe he’d given up, finally, and gone away.

    That’s wishful thinking, Kim warned herself. He won’t give up. Not this easily. A, he wants me. B, I can identify him. He isn’t going to let me waltz out of here.

    On the other hand, he would’ve found me by now if he’d actually been able to follow my signs.

    Maybe he did, she thought. Maybe right now he’s taking a snooze under the tree.

    No. If he knew I was up here, he would’ve tried to take me.

    I lost the bastard.

    The trick, now, is to find my way back to civilization without running into him.

    Trying it in daylight seemed foolhardy.

    Waiting for nightfall was torture. There was no comfortable way to sit. Kim changed positions frequently, mostly sitting, sometimes standing, occasionally hanging by her hands from higher branches to stretch and take the weight off her legs.

    Hunger gnawed at her, but thirst was far worse. She ached for a drink of water.

    In spite of the shade provided by the upper areas of the tree, the heat of the day was brutal. Sweat dribbled down her face, stinging her eyes. It streamed down her body, tickling and making her squirm. Her skin felt slick and greasy. Her shorts felt as if they were pasted on.

    For all the wetness on her skin, her mouth had none. As the day dragged on, her lips became rough and cracked. Her teeth felt like blocks of gritty stone. Her tongue seemed to be swelling, her throat closing so she had difficulty when she tried to swallow.

    At times, she wondered if she could risk waiting for dark. Her strength seemed to be seeping away with the sweat pouring out of her skin. Spells of dizziness came and went. If I don’t climb down pretty soon, she thought, I’m going to fall. But she held on.

    Just a while longer, she told herself. Again and again.

    Finally, dusk came. A refreshing breeze blew through the tree, swaying it gently, drying her sweat.

    Then, darkness closed over the forest.

    Kim began to climb down. She was ten or twelve feet below her perch when she remembered her T-shirt. She’d left it resting on a branch up there.

    It seemed like miles away.

    But she couldn’t return to civilization wearing nothing but her shorts.

    She began to cry. She wanted to get down. She wanted to find water. It just wasn’t fair, having to climb back up there again.

    Weeping, she struggled upward. Finally, she tugged the loaded shirt off the branch. Hadn’t needed the damn rocks anyway. She plucked open the knot and shook the shirt. The rocks fell, thumping against branches, swishing through pine needles. She stuffed the empty rag into the front of her shorts so she wouldn’t lose it, then started her long climb down to the forest floor.

    When Kim dropped from the final limb, she had no clear memory of the descent.

    She found herself walking through the woods. Her hands felt heavy. She looked at them, and saw that each held a rock. She didn’t remember picking them up. But she kept them.

    Until she heard the soft, windy sound of rushing water. Then she tossed them down and ran.

    Soon she was kneeling in a stream, cupping cold water to her mouth, splashing her face with it, sprawling out so she was submerged, the icy current sliding over her body. She came up for air. She cupped more water to her mouth, swallowed, sighed.

    Kim didn’t think she had ever felt so wonderful in her life.

    Until she was suddenly grabbed by her hair and jerked to her knees.

    No! Not after all this!

    His hands clutched her breasts, tugging her up and backward against him. She squirmed and kicked as he hauled her to the bank. There, he threw himself down, slamming her against the ground.

    He writhed on top of her. His hands squeezed and twisted her breasts. He grunted as he sucked the side of her neck.

    Reaching up behind herself, she caught hold of his ear. She yanked it. Heard tearing cartilage, felt a blast of breath against her neck as he cried out. His hands flew out from under her. He pounded the sides of her head.