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Maybe we can reach her on it. Its in my vest somewhere around here. They threw it on the ground when they attacked me. Valkyrie had by this time reached the top of a small knoll. With an unhindered line of sight, her hand held survival radio was able to reach Goose, still circling his F- overhead. Because of the cloud cover, neither he nor Gumby had seen what or who had downed her plane. They had been forced to circle helplessly overhead, waiting for some word after they had lost contact with Valkyrie's F-. Do you Roger? There was a brief burst of static, then the voice returned, Roger, Chevy one. Her mind was racing, trying to remember something- anything- from her training which could help her now. What she remembered was a scene from an old John Wayne Western she had seen a dozen times as a kid. She would use the mountain stream running in front of the cliff to cover her tracks, just like the Duke. She carefully laid a false trail past the stream and then walked backwards to the stream by stepping in her own footsteps, silently praying that whoever was after her was not a fan of the Duke's movies. The water was brutally cold but it was, she knew, the only way she could avoid leaving tracks for her pursuers to use against her. As the dark engulfed her, Valkyrie fought her way up the stream.
Frequently, she stumbled on rocks until she was soaked to the waist, letting the cold further sap her strength. Branches from the banks of the stream racked her face. Only her will and the fear of what capture would mean kept her going.