358

You toss the pendant back inside the cabin and run out of the debris filed in two great leaps. From there it’s a literal war against a barrage of small spiky bushes and shrubs, low branches from the giant trees all around, and the treacherous, sloping and uneven shape of the ground, but you don’t let that stop you, nearly throwing your own weight forward.

A sharp depression in the ground knocks you off balance and you go a-tumbling and rolling down the hill. You feel your clothes ripping to shreds, your skin punctured and torn open repeatedly, but still you continue descending. Finally something hits your head hard and you pass out. Turn to 177.