"I know." His voice was tight with frustration. He spun to Doug behind us. "We need to find water and food."
"We'll get water from the site office." Doug’s voice was flat.
"That'll take too long," Mitch growled.
"Then walk faster, dickhead."
I straightened, forcing myself to keep moving. But the pain in my heels dominated everything. The stings were sharp and constant, a throbbing agony that pulsed with every step. Hot moisture flooded the inside of my boots—blood or fluid from burst blisters, I didn't know. Didn't want to know.
I just kept walking.
"We won't make it to the site office without water," Mitch hissed.
"You'd better hope we do."
I stumbled, and Mitch caught me, looping his arm around my waist. "Easy," he murmured. "I've got you."
"I can't." A sob caught in my throat as I collapsed to the ground.
"Get up," Doug bellowed.
"Leave her alone." Mitch clenched his fists and glared at Doug until he took a step back. "Give us a minute," Mitch hissed.
Doug circled around us, his rifle pointed at me. "One minute. Then she walks, or I put her out of her misery."
Gasping, I glared up at him. "You're an asshole. You know that?"
"Yeah, and I've been called worse, so shut up. I'm getting sick of your bloody whining."
"Hey!" Mitch lunged at Doug.
But Doug whipped the rifle up so fast I cried out. "Back off, asshole." Doug's sneer was unhinged. Terrifying.
Mitch stared for a long moment, and my heart thundered in my neck. Finally, he squatted beside me and rested his hand on my thigh. "You okay?"
I shook my head. "I can't do this." Tears burned my eyes. "My feet. I can't?—"
"Look at me." With his thumb under my chin, he tilted my head to face him.
His fierce green eyes were loaded with a cocktail of determination and worry. "We'll find water and food soon … and rest. I promise."
"You can't promise that." My voice cracked.
"Watch me." His voice was steel. His jaw set. "Can you stand?"
I wanted to say no. Wanted to stay right there in the dirt and give up. But the pleading in his eyes made me nod.
"Good," he said quietly. "Come on."
He stood, glared at Doug, then offered his hand to me. I let him pull me up, and my legs shook, threatening to buckle.
Mitch turned to Doug. "We go slower." His voice was low and dangerous. "Or you can shoot us both right now, because she's not going to make it otherwise."
Doug's eyes narrowed. "You don't give me orders."
"I'm not giving you orders. I'm telling you reality." Mitch's arm stayed firm around my waist. "Slower. Or you walk to that dig site alone."
For a long moment, they stared at each other. Then Doug spat into the dirt. "Fine. But if she slows us down too much, we'll leave her behind."