Heather came to, gasping, as she hacked up water that had been filling her lungs. She was lying on the bank of a river, half buried in mud. She tried to sit up, but a searing pain in the back of her head nearly made her vomit. She felt her head, and found dried blood crusted to her hair. What the hell happened? she thought. Where the hell am I? And then she remembered, The SUV! It hit me and I went over the side of the bridge. I should be dead. Why am I not dead? How did I survive that fall? A sudden rush anxiety flooded over her, if she wasn't dead, then where was she? She tried to sit up again, succeeding this time, but she still felt dizzy. Okay, Heather, you can do this, she thought, you can get out of here. Just take a couple of deep breaths and relax, everything will be fine. She drew in two long, steady, calming breaths, and then tried to stand. Searing pain shot through her left leg as she moved and she looked down to see what the problem was. What she saw horrified her. The bone was broken and was jabbing out of her thigh.
For a moment, Heather sat in shock, unsure what to do. Then, as reason returned to her, she took hold of her injured leg, and, as slowly as possible, pushed the bone back in. She grunted in pain as she did this, fighting to hold back the tears that were trying to escape. Once the bone was back in, she made a splint for herself, just like Harold had taught her six years ago. After stabilizing her leg, she slowly pulled herself to her feet, and began limping along the river, hoping she was going in the right direction.
Heather walked for six hours before collapsing from exhaustion. She was beginning to slip into shock, her body shutting down from dehydration. She crawled to the river, and began to drink, trying to stay awake. The coolness of the water caused her to retch and vomit up the few berries she had eaten hours earlier. Shaking, she rolled onto her back, her vision becoming blurry as the shock took hold. As she passed out, she caught a glimpse of something moving towards her. Good, she thought, at least I'll die quick.
Heather came to once again, this time lying in a warm bed, beside a crackling fire. Her head was pounding, and her leg felt like it was being chewed off. The smell of something cooking hit her nose, making her gag. She shook her head, to clear her vision, and noticed she was in a small, one room cabin. As she looked around the room, she caught sight of a short, thin young woman with long white-blond hair. The woman seemed to have noticed her too.
"Oh good, you're awake." she said, moving over to Heather's side.
"W-what happened? Where am I? Who are you?" Heather asked.
"My name is Abigail Locke, this is my home." the woman said. "I found you in the woods, you were dying of dehydra- what?" She caught sight of the look on Heather's face.
"Did you just say your name is Abigail Locke?" Heather asked.
"Yes." Abigail replied. "I don't see how that's relevant?"
"I know your father." said Heather, trying not to sound stuck up.
"Wait, what?" asked Abigail. "You know my father? But you can't know him, he's dead."
"No." said Heather. "No he isn't. He's alive and he's been helping my friends and I in our efforts to bring down Dorian McGraver III."
Abigail stared at Heather in disbelief for a moment before responding. "I-I didn't know. I thought he was killed with my mother."
"No, he wasn't." said Heather. "He survived, but he thought you were dead, thought you had been killed too."
"No, my mother told me to run, told me to hide. So I ran into the woods and I hid. But she never came for me. I've been out here ever since." said Abigail. "It's been eighteen years."
As Heather stared at this tragic, fragile young woman, her head gave a particularly painful throb. She clutched her head and winced. The movement brought Abigail out of her reverie. "Oh, sorry." she said, smiling. "Let's get you patched up. By the way, you can call me Abby."
Several hours later, Heather asked the question she had been dying to ask all day. "Abby, when are we going to head back to the city. I need to let the others know I'm alive."
"We'll go tomorrow." Abigail replied. "It's getting dark out, and I don't want you wandering around in the dark in your condition." Heather nodded, agreeing with Abigail.
The following morning they set out on their way towards town. The journey was slow, due to Heather's injured leg, but they finally made it to Toronto. They made their way to the hospital, as Heather knew that was where the others would be, if they weren't already out looking for her. As they walked across town, they ran into Harold, who had just made it back to Toronto as well.
"Harold?" Heather asked. "What are you doing out here?"
"Heather!" Harold exclaimed, excitedly. "What the hell happened to you?"
"I was knocked off the bridge leading to Dorian's house while we were escaping. Where were you?" Heather replied.
"I was being held prisoner by Dorian." said Harold. "Bridgette, Geoff, and LeShawna were with me but they escaped. Dorian let me go."
"What?" said Heather, surprised. "That madman actually did something good?"
"Yeah, I don't understand it either." said Harold. "Who's she?" he added, noticing Abigail.
"She's Thomas' daughter Abigail." said Heather. Abigail and Harold exchanged greetings and they continued on, arriving at the hospital a few minutes later, just as Chris, Chef, Gwen, Noah, Trent, D.J., Eva, Beth, Owen, and Tyler came out. The two groups stopped dead, staring at one another for a moment, before exploding into joyful reunions. They all came back inside, screaming and yelling.
"What the hell is going on?" Duncan said, limping out of his room. "I thought you guys were going to start-" he stopped, seeing Harold and Heather. A smile cracked his face and he hugged Harold, not caring what the others would say. "Dude, LeShawna's gonna be so happy." he said.
Harold smiled and followed Duncan into the room, where Justin, Cody, Katie, Sadie, Lindsey, Ezekiel, Geoff, Bridgette, LeShawna, Izzy, and Courtney sat. Thomas was there as well. LeShawna nearly screamed when she saw Harold, and Katie and Sadie let out squeals of joy. While the reunion celebration commenced, and stories were traded, medical personal took care of Heather and Harold. Finally several hours later, after Heather's surgery was over and things had calmed down a bit, Heather made one last introduction.
"I have a surprise for all of you." she said, coherently, despite the pain meds. "I would like to introduce Miss Abigail Locke, Thomas' daughter."
Abigail entered, and Thomas nearly collapsed. Father and daughter stared at one another for a moment, before embracing, tears flowing from both of them. The campers watched, in joyful awe as this reunion unfolded, knowing all too well that this high wouldn't last long.
