Not using her to lean on was impossible, and ten minutes into their escape she wedged her body under his shoulder. Her cat odor overpowered his other senses and made him angrier, if that was possible. He stumbled, fell, and gasped for air. He could feel several broken ribs grinding, compliments of his last beating. His arm was broken too and needed resetting. Sweat dripped down his face and the hot humid air didn't help. Her body was soft but made of iron when it came to taking his extra weight.
He managed to stay conscious, barely. There wasn't any activity at the camp, and Zenya kept to the shadows until they hit the jungle. Brambles stuck to his socks, but he was past caring. Everything hurt, but at least if he died now, it would be someplace other than the hellhole he'd been kept in.
