“That’s life,” Mitch said. “You take the hits. You keep moving. That’s the only way through.”
I had a feeling his mom's disappearance was just the beginning of whatever had hardened him. Maybe this cowboy's life hadn't been all rosy.
He stood and dusted his hands on his jeans. "Come on. We've got maybe four hours of daylight left, and I want to cover as much ground as possible. You ready to try again?"
As I pushed myself up, the skin stretched across my blistered heels so damn tight that each movement promised to rip them apart. The first step sent white-hot pain shooting up my legs, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. "Do you actually know where we're going?"
"Generally. North-northwest. With any luck, we'll find Zeus soon."
"And if we don't find Zeus?"
"Then we have a very long walk ahead of us."
I wasn't sure I could walk another hour, let alone make it through the rest of the day. The heat bore down on my sunburned face like I'd stuck it in a furnace. "How long?"
He squinted at the horizon. "On foot? Four days. Maybe five or more, depending."
"Four or five days?" My voice cracked. "We can barely survive a few hours in this heat. We'll shrivel up and die from dehydration."
"No, we won't. There's always water when you know where to find it." He walked faster.
I stared at his retreating back, then at the endless expanse of red dirt and sparse vegetation stretching in every direction. Four or five days in this suffocating heat with nothing but bitter tree sap for moisture.
My mouth was already so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of it.
We're going to die. And it won't be quick.
But I'd be damned if I'd let Mitch see me panic again. So, I straightened my spine, released my hair from my ponytail so my neck wouldn't burn, and followed him into the scorching heat.
One step at a time. Just like he’d said yesterday.
Even though every painful step was harder than the last.
Even though I knew I couldn't keep going for much longer.
I gritted my teeth against the agony, wondering if I should take my socks off. The fabric was sticking to the raw skin, and I didn't know what would be worse, leaving them on or peeling them away.
I tried not to wince. Tried to keep my breathing steady.
I needed to take my focus off the pain before I completely lost it. "Can I ask you something?"
He gave me a here we go look over his shoulder. "What?"
"I don't know, but we can't keep walking in silence."
"Yes, we can."
"Well, we can, but I need to take my focus off my damn heels, Mitch. So can we just fucking talk about something?" I hated that I sounded so hysterical. "Please?"
He squinted at me, then rolled his eyes so hard I'm surprised they didn't pop out of his beautiful head. "Fine. Ask away."
I shrugged, trying to seem casual. "Tell me about your siblings. What are their names? What are they like? Older or younger?"
"That's three questions."
I rolled my eyes right back at him. "Okay, well, you start the conversation, cowboy."
He scanned the horizon, maybe searching for an escape route. Then he turned to me with a wry grin. "What made you get into archeology?"