* * * *
After a couple of hours, Hildy began to wilt, and I scooped her up. Before I could drape her over my shoulder, she was out like a light.
* * * *
For the past hour I’d been carrying the little girl. My shirt was plastered to me from where she clung, and my hair hung in sweaty tangles, having escaped from the tie. Hildy was drooling against the side of my neck, and her lips made little kissing movements every so often.
We entered a clearing, and the contrast to the closed-in space we’d just left was remarkable. It almost felt cool.
“Want me to take her, kid?” Mr. Chetwood had his hands on her waist, ready to transfer her weight to his arms.
“No, you need to have your hands free so you can be ready to shoot.” I staggered, and his eyes narrowed.
“Jo, I think it might be time to
