And then she heard the second voice. Low, calm, close.
"Marcus," she said, "I'm all wet and in need of a hot shower and about four hours of crying."
Skylar didn't think. Thinking would have reminded her that she hadn't tied off a safety line, that her waders had a leak in the left boot, that the cameraman was still fifty yards back with the good gear. She just moved.
ĐÓNG GÓP