My happiness was short-lived because Doug's leg moved, his fingers spasmed weakly and a liquid groan, barely audible, escaped his throat. He was coming around.
It was more reaction than intent.
First the rock was silhouetted black against bright sunlight, held high by tightly clenched hands.
Then, silently and blindly, it thrashed down, barely hindered by the splintering, shattering bone of Doug's skull, until the earth gripped it, wet and immobile, still caged by my rigid fingers.
My elbows jarred painfully as they took my weight and my head came to rest above what had once been Doug's face.