Water in a Time of Thirst

Chapter Three

         When Corbin finished separating the water from the mud, he let it boil with a few salt teaspoons and stirred. When it was ready, he removed a glass bottle from his backpack — the surface glinting under the fading sun, and wrapped a metal funnel in cheesecloth before inserting it in the opening. Using his sleeve as a pot holder, he took the boiling water and trickled the it into the funnel. Armis watched, his eyes wide while chewing his nails as the murky liquid filtered through the cloth and came out clearer. Leaving a small amount behind, Corbin boiled a hollow needle, and when the bottled water cooled, he assembled the IV drip with a thin clear hose and duct tape.

Taking Everleigh’s arm, he searched for a promising vein. As his fingers ran across the crook of her elbow, he thought about how he didn’t owe either of them a thing. After all, they were the ones who bonked him on the head and kidnapped him. They were the ones attempting to drag him across the desert and use him to find water like a slave. Yet, deep down, he would always have the desire to help those in need, so he shook the thoughts away, and when he saw a good vein, he pushed the needle through Everleigh’s skin. She flinched a little, but her eyes remained closed, and he caressed her arm as if rubbing the pain away.

“Thank you,” Armis cleared his throat, his voice rough. “Thank you for doing this and not abandoning us.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not that nice.”

“Right,” Armis laughed. “You just did all of this because you’re a terrible person.”

“It’s getting cold, and the sun’s going down," he changed the subject. "I’ll make us a bigger fire.”

After digging a small hole, he placed charcoal in the center, sprinkled gasoline, and lit a match. A whoosh set the air a blaze with orange flames causing Corbin to flinch, but Armis smiled—the fire's glow emphasizing his hollow cheeks.

“That’s Everleigh’s favorite part. She loves seeing the flames go up.”

Without looking at him, Corbin said, “I know you’re worried about her, but she’ll be fine by morning. With the sun and the heat, she’s just exhausted.”

“I don’t know what I would have done if you—”

“We should eat something,” Corbin cut him off.

“Right.” He nodded. “I’d like to wait for Everleigh to awaken. She needs to eat.”

“Fine. You take the first watch. I’m going to shut my eyes for a bit.”

“Sure.” Armis nodded and patted his gun holster.

“Fantastic,” Corbin grunted as he nestled his backpack under his head and let the sounds of the desert lull him to sleep.

The lure was intense, unraveling his mind into a dream of faces where Everleigh’s eyes fluttered, and her body collapsed to the ground. The dust that consumed her dissolved into new shape as the pug-faced drifter danced for him by the fire—the light softening her scarred face until the flames transformed into another woman. But unlike Everleigh and the drifter, this one put ache in his belly, causing his abdomen to tighten as he slept. His fingers flexed, reaching to trace the delicate curve of her jawline. He left Sarah behind and abandoned her when she needed him—a regret that haunted him even after fourteen years. 

The next thing he knew, he was flailing his arms and bolting upright. He blinked, and rubbed circles, trying to clear the faces from his vision until only one remained.

“You were having a nightmare,” Everleigh said. The shadows under her eyes were profound, but the warm brown color of her irises still glistened in the firelight. Corbin glanced at Armis. He was passed out cold, snoring softly with drool trickling down the side of his mouth.