2

Three days pass on that damn hilltop. Three days of struggle show you all the survivors you've become.

That first night, the clouds burst open just before dawn, and the clearing turned into a mud-packed mound. In the morning, you awoke in your soaked tent, a puddle of water pooled on one side of the canvas roof. At least you were dry. Not taking watch duty the first night didn't go over well with your companions. They showed their disdain and acted coldly for several hours the next day.

That first day tested everyone's resolve. Many supplies were saturated with rainwater, and even some food was lost. You collected rainwater for drinking. Morale dropped as people huddled in tents and under tarps and anywhere they could for relief from the storm. No one stayed clean, and when the wind picked up, driving sheets of rain through the clearing, it blew leaves and debris over everything. No fire could be kept going. You tried to keep your spirits up, even as the dampness crept into your bones and the misery of the situation wore upon the faces of your group.

Madison's arm healed without any further intervention. Jaime was not so lucky. Jaime's injured hand became infected. Luckily, the group had antibiotics. He started them Tuesday and was forced to sleep for a few days.

That was Tuesday.