The piercing shrieks of her companion grew fainter as the icy cold water rushed over her head, carrying her further and further down the river.
The torrential rain had only recently subsided and she was dashed against rocks as drainage from the nearby mountain pressed the waterway into action. Struggling, she nearly reached shore and the hands of another of her hiking team reached out, almost grasping her. Hysterical, the youngest member of the tribe collapsed into sobs as her dear friend, unable to free herself from the current, quickly approached a waterfall twice the height of the helpless Barbara.
The water was so cold, she thought idly, as the sounds of rescue efforts faded from her consciousness.
The wounds sustained from the dingo attack earlier in the trip numbed. It was the first time she'd been able to forget the dog's huge teeth wrapped around her feet as her companions attempted to overpower the beast. What was that about every cloud's lining?
She couldn't remember.
Her eyes gazed, unfocused towards the black storm clouds above.
At least she couldn't get any wetter.
She had resigned herself to the will of the river when large, strong hands grasped and lifted her, it seemed without effort, out of the water. She was returned to her friends, somewhat the worse for wear, her crown of golden hair streaming down her naked body.
Once she was dried, she resumed the hike, which had become more a death march to her, but in which she had no choice, if she wished to ever see home again.
Unable to move her legs any further, she fell behind. She could hear the cheerful laughter of her companions as they settled into their evening camp. The trip had been hard on her, but they were revived with a new lust for life, pumped up with the adreneline of the rescue.
Every second felt like an hour as she fell, motionless, into the wet grass. The night fell and with each camper retiring to their respective shelters, Barbara was left forgotten and shivering. She closed her eyes and waited for the trip to be over. She wondered if the light at the end of the tunnel would at least warm her frigid form. She was barely aware of hands lifting her and bringing her to the warmth and light of a giant bonfire. Relieved to experience the warmth but unable to thank her rescuer, she drifted off into a wary unconsciousness. As she fell into a fitful sleep, wondering vaguely what challenges would face her tomorrow and the following, seemingly endless days ahead, she heard her rescuer speak:
"Hey Sarah, I found this doll in the middle of the field, thought I'd grab it before the dog got it again. It's your daughter's, right?"
