![]() Rachel Jones had automatically adjusted her habits to the weather, taking it easy, either doing her chores early in the morning or putting them off until late afternoon. IT WAS A hot night, even for mid-July in central Florida. He rolled onto his back and rested for a few minutes before he began the slow, agonizing process of swimming to shore. ![]() It might take a while, but unless a shark got him, he was damned well going to make it to shore. He wasn’t going to give up he could float, and he could manage to swim for short periods of time. Grimly Sabin pushed both sensations away, staring fixedly at the stars in an effort to orient himself. It was a clumsy bandage at best, but his head was swimming, and deadly lethargy was creeping into his limbs. Then he folded the remnant of his cutoffs into a pad and slipped it under the loop, positioning it over the wound. The best he could manage was to sling the strip over his back, bring it around under his armpit and tie it in a tight loop over his shoulder. ![]() He began chewing again, tore off two more strips, then tied them to the other two. Even tied together, the two strips weren’t enough. ![]()
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