Surviving Her (The Lost World #1)

1. River

1

RIVER

R iver pressed her palms against the porch railing, her fingers tracing the rough grooves her father had carved into the old oak. Their cabin, nestled in the deep, wild Northanger Mountains, was so much more than a basic hut—it was their refuge, a haven of memories. Even as she started to realize that the world outside might be descending into chaos, the cabin her father had built stood firm, and she felt safe.

The wind howled through the dense forest, whipping the trees into a frenzy. The sky was a strange mix of gray and black. The atmosphere felt heavy with the promise of an imminent downpour. The air was thick with the scent of pine and humid earth and carried a metallic tang of ozone—a sure sign of the storm to come. As she stepped inside, she noticed that the cabin was very dimly lit, with only the flickering glow of the fireplace and a couple of oil lamps.

River took a deep breath, the scent of woodsmoke mingling with the faintest trace of her father’s cologne—a smell she’d always thought of as spicy, warm, and comforting. A heavy feeling pressed down on her shoulders. It had been only a day since news of the outbreak began, each report more terrifying than the last.

Her father, a man of action with a military background, had insisted they retreat to the cabin. “It’s safe out there, River,” he’d said, his voice calm and laced with authority. “We’ve got supplies for at least three months if there’s just the two of us, and we ration. Let’s head out there and wait this out away from other folks.”

And so they’d set off in the middle of the night, leaving behind everything—home, friends, and normalcy—for the safety of isolation. The cabin, once a place for summer retreats, was to become their fortress, a place to shut out the virus and pretend, if only briefly, that everything would be okay.

But River could see the worry in her father’s eyes. She recognized the fear etched on his face as they listened to the news on their battery-powered radio. The female reporter could be heard very faintly through the noisy static of the radio, her voice without even a hint of emotion.

“The government has issued an…for all citizens to stay in their…contain the spread of the virus and…public health…travel is permitted…emergency services remain operational…around the clock to manage the situation. Stay…stay informed…home.”

“Have you got a phone signal at all, Dad?” River asked as casually as she could manage.

“Nope. Not a thing. Plus, the battery’s running out on the radio.” Her father huffed. “I don’t want to waste any generator power on it. We’ve been through this before, River. It’s a virus. They’ll lock everyone down, and in a couple of months, it’ll pass. Just have faith.”

“You’re right. Let’s turn everything off to save the power,” River said, trying her hardest to smile. “We get the message, right? Virus, masks, yada, yada, work from home, Skype your family, learn to crochet, write a book, get vaccinated, go back to normal…”

Her father laughed. “That’s the drill, hon.”

River pulled her flannel shirt tighter as she closed the curtains. The temperature had definitely dropped. She loved the cabin, but the cold seeped through the walls despite the roaring fire.

“Dad?” she called out. “Should I make some tea?”

But he was gone.

Jesus. What’s he up to now? I only turned my back for a second.

As she opened the door, a blast of icy wind nearly knocked her back. She stepped out onto the porch, her boots crunching on the weathered decking. River squinted through the gloom, trying to spot her father.

“Dad!” she cried out, her voice almost lost in the howling wind. She saw him near the edge of the clearing, struggling with a tarp that had come loose from the woodpile. His tall, stocky frame hunched against the wind, and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead by the rain that had just begun to fall.

“Stay inside, baby!” her father shouted, his voice muffled by the storm. He wrestled with the tarp, but the wind was turning it into a losing battle.

Like hell, I will.

River’s feet sank into the muddy ground as she stepped off the porch. The cold seeped into her bones, but she pushed forward, determined to get to her father.

Just as she reached him, he managed to secure a corner of the tarp under a heavy log, but the other side flapped around wildly. River grabbed it. They stood there for a moment, her father panting from exhaustion as rain soaked them both to the skin.

“Dad, come on! We need to get inside!” River shouted, struggling to make her voice audible over the wind.

Her father nodded. “Yeah, let’s—” A loud crack cut off his words. River instantly assumed someone was shooting at them from beyond the clearing. Her heart leaped into her throat as she realized that the tallest tree, one of the towering pines surrounding the cabin that they’d meant to cut down last summer but hadn’t gotten around to, had snapped under the force of the wind. It wobbled for several seconds, then began to fall, its branches slicing through the air like knives.

“Dad! Get out of the way!” she screamed. But it was too late. The tree crashed down, its trunk slamming into the ground. The impact reverberated through River’s body.

Jesus! The ground is shaking!

For a moment, everything went silent. All River could hear was the pounding of her pulse against her eardrum.

River’s eyes widened with horror as she realized what had happened. The tree had fallen directly across the path where her father had been standing. “Dad!” she sobbed, rushing forward to find him. Her feet slipped as she scrambled toward the man she loved most in the world. She saw his body partially buried beneath the massive branches.

He’s not moving!

“No, no, no,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. Her hands trembled as she brushed away the dirt and leaves. Her father was unconscious. River recoiled as her eyes were drawn to his pale, slack face. He had a deep gash across his forehead. As she tried to stop the blood oozing from the wound with her sleeve, a wave of nausea rose in her throat.

“Oh, Daddy, wake up. Wake up, Daddy,” she begged, shaking him by the shoulder. There was no response. Panic surged through her as she did her best to remember what he’d taught her to do in an emergency.

“Assess the damage. Assess…assess,” she muttered to herself, barely able to think. “Okay. How do I assess? What does that mean? What do I do?”

Her father’s left leg had been hit by the trunk as it fell, though thankfully the tree had rolled just enough that he wasn’t still pinned under it. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. River noticed what she assumed was his bone jutting through the skin. The sight was horrifying. A pool of blood surrounded him, its bright scarlet hue slowly soaking into the brown mud.

“No, Daddy. You’re losing too much blood. Stop bleeding!” she shouted, her voice rising with panic.

River tried not to panic at the full extent of his injuries. Her mind screamed at her to act, to do something, anything , but she was frozen in a state of absolute helplessness.

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered, taking off her shirt and placing it against the wound, being careful not to press it too hard. Her hands soon became slick with blood, and she knew it wasn’t enough. She needed help.

“Stay with me,” she urged, leaning forward and feeling for a pulse on his neck. “I feel you. I got you, Dad. You’re still with me. I’ll get you out of here. I promise. Just have faith.”

River watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Keep breathing. Just keep breathing, Daddy.

And then she heard a sound. It was quiet at first, just the faintest moan. But it sounded like the sweetest music she’d ever heard. He was still with her.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tears choking her voice. “Don’t speak. Just breathe. Stay awake.” Her father had taught her so much about survival, first aid, how to act in an emergency…so why couldn’t she get a handle on this? She needed to accept the severity of his injuries in order to help him.

Right, get a grip, Riv. What can I see? What can I do? His ribs must have broken…

River stared down at her father’s face and tried to examine the deep gash.

Fluttering eyes, shallow breathing, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Please, you have to wake up,” she pleaded. But he remained still, his body slack and unresponsive. River’s heart pounded. She was going to lose him.

The storm continued to rage around her, and the wind sounded like it was laughing at her helplessness as she tried to come up with a solution. She knew she had to move him. She had to get him inside the cabin somehow, but the thought of lifting him, especially with his injuries, was terrifying. But what choice did she have?

River forced herself to focus as she gritted her teeth. Her father’s blood loss was the most immediate danger. She pressed a little harder on her makeshift bandage. The fabric was soaked. She had to find something more robust to bind the wound, something that would stop the bone from moving any farther.

The cabin wasn’t far. But under the circumstances, it might as well have been ten miles away. Leaving her father felt so wrong, but River knew there was no other option. She stood up, the wind whipping her hair as she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other as she bolted for the cabin.

She pushed the door open and raced to the kitchen, yanking open drawers until she found a roll of thick gauze, some adhesive tape, and a pair of scissors. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she grabbed a thick towel to make a splint.

Clutching the supplies to her chest, she ran back out into the storm, nearly tripping on the porch steps as she hurried to her father’s side. He hadn’t moved, his breathing still shallow, and River’s heart ached at the sight of him.

“I’m right here, Dad. I’m here,” she said, kneeling beside him. Her voice was steady, but her veins throbbed as adrenaline coursed through her body. She tore off a strip of gauze and wrapped it firmly around his leg in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“Just hold on. I’m begging you,” she whispered, tying off the already blood-soaked gauze. Next, she wrapped the towel around his leg and secured it with some of the tape. It was the most basic splint imaginable, and she knew her father would be barking instructions at her if he could and telling her where she’d gone wrong, but it was the best she could manage.

River needed to get him inside. She gently touched his shoulder, trying to rouse him.

“Dad? You have to wake up now. Open your eyes,” she begged. For a moment, his eyelids fluttered, but then a soft groan escaped his lips and he fell silent again.

River knew that she could no longer allow her fear to paralyze her. Her father’s life depended on what she did next. She shifted her position, sliding her arms under his shoulders. She braced herself and lifted, sweat pouring from her forehead as she pulled him free from the debris. He was so much heavier than she’d anticipated, and his limp body was a total dead weight.

With a strength born of desperation, River finally dragged her father clear of the tree. Every muscle in her body burned with the effort as she started to drag him across the ground.

I can’t do this.

River’s mind spun into overdrive. She couldn’t control her thoughts. But as she took a gulp of air, she tried to push aside her fear with all the force she could muster. This wasn’t about what she could or couldn’t do. It was about what she had to do. It was as simple as that.

“One step at a time,” she said through clenched teeth. “Just keep moving.”

It took everything she had to pull her father across the clearing. The ground was uneven, soaked with rain, and the mud clung to her boots like quicksand. The wind was a constant force against her, almost as if it were trying to push her back. Her father’s limp body dragged behind her, a weight that seemed to grow heavier by the second. Her arms and legs burned with the strain. Her jaw was clenched so tightly that her whole face started to ache, but she took deep breaths and kept pulling.

It felt like a whole day passed before she reached the porch steps. River glanced up at their cabin, its silhouette blurred by the sheets of rain. The door was still ajar, the faint light from inside a beacon of hope.

“We’re almost there, Daddy,” she cried out, though she doubted he could hear her. His head lolled to the side and his face was white. She hadn’t seen or heard a reaction from him since she’d started moving him. The gash on his forehead was still bleeding, but his leg seemed somewhat stabilized. Still, she knew full well that he was fading fast and there was no time to lose.

The porch steps loomed before her like a final challenge. River braced herself, suddenly realizing that this would be the hardest part. With a deep sigh, she adjusted her grip on her father’s shoulders and began the arduous task of pulling him up the steps. Each one was a monumental effort. She had to heave him up with every ounce of strength she had left as her muscles screamed in protest.

One step.

Then another.

River’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her vision blurring with a mix of rain and tears. The steps seemed to stretch on forever, an endless climb that left her wondering if she’d ever reach the top. But she kept going, refusing to let exhaustion win. The porch creaked beneath them as she finally, miraculously, pulled her father onto the flat surface.

She collapsed beside him, her chest heaving in pain. For a moment, all she could do was lie there, her body trembling with exhaustion.

Inside. I have to get him inside.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, River dragged her father through the doorway and into the cabin. The warmth hit her immediately, and the fire was still crackling. But there was no time to take solace in it. She needed to tend to her father.

She pulled him just far enough inside to close the door against the storm. River knew she couldn’t lift him onto the couch, so she left him on the floor, using the thick blankets and cushions from the couch to make him comfortable. She quickly stripped off his wet clothes, her fingers numb as she cut the fabric from around the makeshift dressing and splint. The cold had already seeped into his skin, and she was afraid hypothermia would set in if she didn’t act quickly.

Once she had him wrapped in dry blankets, River knelt beside him, her mind racing. She needed to get help, but how? The nearest hospital was in Campdale, at least forty miles away, and she remembered her father had mentioned their car was low on gas. Even if it had a full tank, she wasn’t sure she could drive through the storm. The roads would be treacherous, and the wind had probably downed more trees along the way.

She stood up and looked through the window. It was completely dark out there as rain splattered against the glass. The thought of leaving her father alone, in his current state, while she went for help made her feel sick, but she knew what she had to do.

River quickly changed out of her wet clothes, pulling on a fresh T-shirt, a thick sweater, and her waterproof jacket. As she laced up her walking boots, her thoughts drifted to her mother. A familiar ache in her chest rose toward her throat, something that happened every time she remembered who she and her father had lost. Her mother had always been the strongest of the three of them, the one who kept their little family together. She’d taught River to be brave, to laugh, to find joy in the small things, and to face challenges head-on, no matter how impossible they seemed.

“Mom,” River said under her breath, the words spilling from her trembling lips as she tied a double knot in her laces. “Why aren’t you here? I need you so bad.”

If she listened hard enough, she could hear her mother’s gentle yet firm voice urging her to keep going. River knew it was only a figment of her imagination, but she stood up straight, her determination hardening. She couldn’t afford to dither around right now. There was no room for doubt. Her father needed her to be strong, just as her mother would’ve been.

Oh, God. He’s so pale.

“Please stay with me, Daddy,” she whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’m coming straight back. I’ll be as quick as I can. I promise. You hear me?”

He can’t hear me.

With one final, heartbreaking glance at her father, River opened the door and stepped outside. She forced herself to move away from the cabin. The darkness swallowed her as she descended the steps.

Keep moving. You can do this.

As she trudged through the woods, her mind drifted back to her mother. The few memories she had of her were bittersweet. Her mom had always been her rock, the one person she could count on no matter what was going on in her life. Even in her final days, when the cancer had eaten through almost every cell of her body, she’d remained brave, determined to be there for her husband and daughter until her last breath.

I won’t let you down, Mom. I’ll get Dad out of this. I promise.

The storm raged on, but River picked up her pace. Her determination warmed her muscles and made it easier for her to make her way through the darkness.

Now and then, the wind carried the faintest hint of a distant siren or the echo of thunder, but the sounds were fleeting and indistinct. River’s heart pounded with a mix of fear and hope. She knew that if she could reach the main road, she might find a vehicle that could take her to the hospital.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally emerged from the dense forest. She looked around as she desperately tried to make out any sign of civilization. The road wasn’t exactly known to be a bustling artery, but she’d expected to see some signs of life.

I heard sirens…

River’s legs felt like lead as she trudged along the road. Hours and hours passed. She walked and walked, occasionally stopping for a rest to ease her cramping legs. But then, the first faint glimmer of lights pierced the darkness. They were distant, but a surge of hope swelled in River’s chest, spurring her on through her exhaustion. The lights grew brighter as she approached, revealing the silhouette of Campdale against the dark blue sky. The sight was both a relief and a source of fresh anxiety. What would she find there?