CHAPTER EIGHT
Ilse's hands strained where they gripped the muddy roots. Her fingers turned white before her eyes as she lowered herself, carefully into the pit. Her sleeves slipped along the dirt and debris, scattering pieces of earth towards the darkness. Below, she heard Sawyer cough and curse followed by what sounded like stumbling.
Her head dipped below the forest floor, following the rest of her into the pit. Strong hands gripped at her leg, guiding her until she found herself sliding onto Sawyer's shoulder.
“I gotchu, doc,” he muttered, still choking as if he'd swallowed mud. “Hang tight.”
She did just that, loosening her grip only enough so she didn't burn her hands as they slipped along the mud-scrabbled root.
Darkness swallowed her as she fell and, with Sawyer's help, loosene
