Dangling in the vines, I became aware that I throbbed and burned all over. "Don't think so," I said. "He tossed me."
The light swayed. Toal crouched on a broad, living rope slightly above me. She unclipped the light from the neck of her sack and held it close to me. "Anything broken?" she asked.
"I don't know," I moaned. "How can anything so big move that fast?"
"You are scratched and bruised." Toal pulled apart a long rip in my oversuit. "Side is bleeding," she said. "Have to get you down."
"What about the Hog?"
"Ran. You hurt him, Kinlock. Blood on the road."
"Probably mine. A hundred pellets!" I sighed. "He kept coming."
"Said hissers won't stop him. Must cut that vine around your ankle."
Toal put her hand to the back of her neck and pulled it away clutching a small knife. She sawed at the vines. Far away, the Hog grunted, but the sounds had a new, bubbling quality. Toal said, "Going back to the swamp."
I said, "He can talk. He told me he would eat me."