It’s Dan, and he looks as overheated as you, and in distress.“Oh shit, Dan.” you stutter, “I thought you were John, I… sorry, I would’ve p...t some clothes on if I’d known it was you.”He seems taken aback by your skimpy outfit, as if he’d suddenly forgot why he knocked on your door in the first place. “That’s, uh…” he begins, “That’s alright, Anna. I don’t mind. Look, can you help me with my car? I broke down on the road right outside.”“Oh, sorry,” you explain, “I’m no help with that sort of. They would either turn me back over to the insurgents ... in which case I would be killed ... or they would help me. But if I kept wandering around this mountain range, I was a dead man anyway.Without water, I could have made it three or four days, max, in my best condition. In thin clothing, injured, and in a weakened state; the odds were good that exposure would get me before dehydration set in.So, I walked. As I walked, my vision blurred and then returned, over and over. Odds were good that. More

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