When the ground fell from beneath her feet, Brennan was sure she was going to die. She would miss her chance at marriage, children, and the Nobel Prize. But just as quickly, she reached her arms over her head and fought for her life. She wanted that Nobel Prize.
The first tree slowed her fall, but sent her tumbling end over end. Sky, trees, sky, trees, until she lost all sense of direction.
The second tree stopped her descent, but not without cost. The snap was loud in the forest and Brennan screamed in pain. Fighting the darkness at the edges of her vision, she looked up at the clear blue sky that was now in its proper place above her.
Her breath came in short gasps and Brennan forced herself to breath slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She counted each breath carefully, focusing only on her breathing and nothing else.
Finally, her heart rate slowed enough to convince her she wouldn't pass out. She turned her head slowly to the left and right. She was relieved to see there were no signs of a steep drop off on either side.
Arching her neck, Brennan could see where the rock ledge had broken cleanly away from the mountain. Luckily for her the shelf hadn't been over a sheer drop to the river below. For the moment, her position was secure.
Slowly, she sat up. Immediately, warm blood from a cut on her forehead began running down her face. Reaching up, Brennan touched the blood and then looked at her fingers. A cut on her forehead would bleed a lot, but it wouldn't kill her.
The same couldn't be said of her right leg. Either the tibia or fibula were fractured. Perhaps both. Off trail, unable to walk, the injury could be a death sentence.