Azia's legs felt like jelly as she and Zeke weaved their way through the woods. She worried her knees would buckle and give way with each passing step. She gripped onto any tree trunk or thick branch that stood in her path, internally grateful for having something, anything, to momentarily put her support on.

When the path was clear and she had to walk by herself, Azia wondered if she would even make it back to the compound in one piece. Every inch of her ached. She could have ...