Water in a Time of Thirst

Chapter Two

        At first, the daylight was nothing but a sliver of brightness. With a little more effort, Corbin forced his eyes to open and the brightness spread into a blueness blurring past him as the heavy blanket of desert heat weighing on him. He blinked several times, trying to focus, but his skull throbbed as if a rubber band was wrapped around his forehead, forcing the blood in one spot. Why was the sky moving so fast? And why couldn't he thrust his arms? Twisting his head back, he learned why thanks to the cloaked person dragging him by the wrists with itchy rope chafing his skin.

As the haziness from his mind cleared, he remembered getting hit over the head. And now, as a result, he was being treated like a freshly killed doe.

"I'm thirsty."

"I thought I told you to gag his mouth?" said a deep voice farther ahead.

As Corbin twisted his head around, he noticed the other person was wearing a hooded cape as well. For now, his capturer's identity was a mystery, but one thing was for sure, they were nuts to be wearing capes in the desert.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one dragging him."

A female voice. It had been a while since Corbin encountered a woman, and a ripple of excitement tickled his belly. Maybe they were taking him to a colony full of women? A man could only dream. As long as they weren't like the drifter he met years ago. The one with a webbing of burn scars and cracked lips. She was hard to look at.

"Quit your crying. It's not much farther."

"Come on, Armis!" the female complained. "Can you please take over? He's heavy."

"Well, I'm offended!" Corbin exclaimed. "I'm on a diet. Trying to watch my figure and here you go and-"

"Shut it, Witcher!" Armis barked.

Instead of the female turning around, the male revealed his face, but the hood of the cape shadowed his umber complexion—cutting sharp lines across his high cheekbones, and chiseled jaw. Although, it seemed to be from malnourishment considering the caves under his eyes. As exhausted as he looked, he scooped Corbin up with his spaghetti arms and tossed him over his shoulder with impressive ease.

This allowed Corbin a better view of the female, and to his delight, her high cheekbones and narrow jaw were attractive. He barely even paid attention to the deep circles under her eyes because of her warm brown irises. They glowed like honey in the sunlight. Not having seen a woman in months, this one was plenty beautiful to him, even if she looked like a delicate version of who he was assuming was her brother. And he hoped he was because it had been weeks since he last touched a woman.

"Everleigh," Armis said, over his shoulder. "You should eat something. Reach in my backpack and eat the dried deer meat."

"I hate the way it tastes," she replied. "You eat it."

He stopped and turned around completely, giving Corbin a better view of the direction they were heading, which was nothing for miles. Just sand upon dirt and tumbleweeds skittering across the terrain. Where exactly were they taking him?

"You need to eat, Everleigh. What kind of brother would I be if I let you starve?"

"The kind who makes me drag a man across the desert."

"You dragged him for a mile. I've been doing most of the work, little Sis."

And there Corbin had his answer! They were siblings.

When Armis turned around to continue making their way, Corbin was back to staring at his kidnapper's rear. The musky scent puffing up as he pumped his legs didn't help with the unpleasant sight, and he wished he was out cold again. Now and again, he stole glances at Everleigh. She was slim, most likely from having to ration out their meals, but her limbs were strong with tiny yet firm muscles flexing as she subconsciously felt for her gun holster.