“Thirsty. Tired.” I shouldn’t be tired. I’d been knocked out by whatever was in the drug. We must have slept for hours. I shiver again and I know its blood loss. I’m going to die out here, in a room carved out of rock. My bones will turn to dust. No one will even notice I’m missing. I’ll just be gone.
My throat swells and I have to swallow hard.
“I’ll get you some water when I’ve cut through this.”
“Okay.” Or once he’s free, he’ll piss off and leave me here to die. I close my eyes against the green glare. The sound of him sawing through the rope, and his breathing fills my ears.
Something cool touches my lips.
I blink, struggling to wake up. Cillian is holding a water bottle.
“I’ll help you sit up.” Before I can answer he’s lifted my back and shoulders off the bed. I’d argue that I don’t need help, but I’m so heavy and drowsy I don’t have the strength. I gulp down the offered water. When I’m done drinking, he finishes the bottle in a few swallows before helping me lie down. “Rest.”
Why are you still here?But the words remain in my mouth as I sink into unconsciousness again.
* * *
I’m not sure how long I slept for, but the green light has dimmed and there’s a narrow slice of sunlight coming through the entrance. I glance around, not sure why I woke, then a shadow blocks the doorway. My heart lurches before I realize it’s Cillian.
“You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” My voice is rough. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Out there.”
“Oh. Is it safe?”
“There are no fae creatures if that’s what you’re asking, only the usual assortment of desert life.”
I can deal with that. I stand and test my weight on my injured leg. The wounds burn. Some of them probably need stitches, but it’s a bit too late for that. I hobble toward the doorway. Cillian takes my arm as if to escort me.
“I can manage. Where out there?”
“Pick a place.” He reaches behind to the shelves and hands me a roll of toilet paper.
I tear off a few squares and put them in my pocket. “Who builds a base and doesn’t include a bathroom?”
“There is an outdoor shower, but it’s not set up and it needs water.”
“Where was he getting his water?”
“From the looks of it bottles.”
I don’t need a shower badly enough that I’m willing to use our drinking water. “How much do we have?”
“A few days.” His lips press into a thin line.
That isn’t a few days here, but a few days trekking out of wherever here is.
“I’m going to look around the site. He’s very well organized, so there’s most likely more here than we realize.”
I want to look around too, but I’m not going to be running and climbing anytime soon. I lean against the doorway. “You should walk out, get your bike and come back for me.” Or leave me.
But there was no point in both of us sitting around drinking the last of the water and hoping for a miracle.
“We have food and water, and I want to dig through this guy’s things.” He grins. “I’ll look for you if you aren’t back in ten.”
Getting through the crevice is easy as there are rocks to support me on both sides. The sun is harsh and bright, and I squint. Already the heat is radiating off the ground, making everything sharp white. I step out of the crevice and lift my hand to stare across the desert. People imagine it to be barren, but it’s full of life. Reptiles, scorpions and spiders, birds and plants all survive and thrive out here. People, not so much. We’re too fragile and water dependent.
