19
INDI
I was going to die. The hand about my neck gripped so tight it was crushing my trachea. Spots danced in my eyes, and I knew this was it. I had seconds. I wriggled and squirmed, trying to shift. Tully had power and gravity on his side, but I was unstable, like a f*****g turtle with my huge pack on my back, I arched sideways and tipped. I wasn’t usually two feet wide, but the pack was jammed full, the tent poles wedged in vertically braced my back.
I fell onto my shoulder and hip, Tully’s hand slipping away. Coughing and sputtering, I wriggled my arms out of the straps as much as pushed the guy off me. I had a moment to move as he hadn’t expected me to fall out of the way. Neither had I.
My maneuvering had me dropping lower, enough so that I was able to bring my knee up. It slid
