It took much longer than he had hoped, but around midday, he finally saw what he had been looking for. There, in the distance to their right, was a small gathering of trees and shrubs. It was exactly as he remembered it. “Over there.” He pointed excitedly. “That’s what I’ve been looking for.”
The kid’s eyes lit up, and Deadshot could see the change in the kid’s demeanor immediately. All he needed was a little hope and some water, and he was back to his old self.
“Is that where you found water before?” the kid asked.
“It is,” Deadshot replied. “It still looks exactly the same. Can you see that the trees and shrubs are brighter?”
The kid nodded. “Yeah. They don’t look like they are busy dying.”
“That’s because there is water underground.”
“Didn’t you say we were looking for a river?” The kid looked confused, but still, he was smiling.
“I did,” Deadshot replied. “When it rains, there’s a river, but then when it gets too hot, it dries up. It flows underground, though, and some of the water remains.”
They headed toward the little patch of greenery, both of them pushing their horses to go faster than they usually did. The animals were thirsty too, and they all needed to get to the water as fast as possible. Deadshot hoped that the river above ground would still hold some water, but he wasn’t surprised when they arrived at a dry riverbed.
“Now what?” the kid asked, all hope disappearing from his face.
“We dig,” Deadshot replied. “There should be water. We’ll just have to work to get to it.”
The kid groaned, obviously not in the mood to do any hard physical labor. Deadshot could not blame him for that. The kid wasn’t usually lazy, but they were both way too close to dehydration.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and we won’t have to dig too deep.” Deadshot was really hoping that would be the case. His body was exhausted, and his knees were aching. Usually, when the left knee got too bad, he would take some laudanum, but he didn’t even have any with him. He was all out.
“Come on, let’s get to work,” he instructed as he dismounted Bullseye. “The faster we do this, the better.”
“Sure, why not?” the kid agreed, slipping off his horse as well.
They didn’t exactly have the right equipment for digging with them, but Deadshot did carry a small pickax with him at all times while traveling, and that would have to do. “We’ll take turns,” he said as he took the pickax from his luggage. “I’ll go first.”
The kid simply nodded and sat down. The last couple of days had been harder on him. They were no closer to finding Quincy, and being low on water didn’t help the situation. Things were looking up, though. As soon as they had some water in their system, they would both feel better.
Deadshot started digging. His body protested, but he kept on digging. It needed to be done, and Deadshot was nothing if not determined. It was his undying refusal to give up that had gotten him out of many life-or-death situations.
Deadshot dug for a long time. Every muscle in his shoulders, arms, back, and legs was on fire, but still, he continued. He knew if he kept at it, he would find water, and water was the most important thing at that moment. He would deal with the pain much better if he weren’t so thirsty.
Eventually, he ran out of stamina and fell to the ground, allowing himself a moment to breathe and recover what energy he had left.
“I’ll dig for a little while,” the kid offered, walking toward him and taking the small pickax. “I can’t exactly let you do all the work.”
Deadshot smiled at that, thankful that the kid was always willing to help, even when he wasn’t happy. “Just for a few minutes, then I’ll take over again.”
The kid nodded and walked over to a spot that was covered with shade from one of the larger trees. He was only a few feet away, and Deadshot watched him closely as he lay back on his elbows. Much like Deadshot, the kid would overexert himself to get something done, and Deadshot couldn’t allow the kid to overdo it at that moment. They were nowhere near a town or a doctor. He had to keep the kid safe and healthy.
Deadshot closed his eyes for a second and inhaled deeply. There was barely a breeze, and the air was dry, just like his throat. The desert really was a harsh place. “You doing all right over there, kid?” he asked.
“Still alive,” the kid replied, and Deadshot chuckled.
“Good, I’ll take over again in five.”
Deadshot lay back and removed his hat, placing it over his face to protect himself from the sun. He just needed a little break. He wasn’t tired; he was exhausted.
The five minutes he had promised the kid and himself hadn’t even passed when he heard a loud scream. Deadshot sat bolt upright, his hat falling from his face.
“It stung me,” the kid said, his voice catching in his throat. His eyes were big with panic as he held one hand in the other.
Deadshot jumped to his feet, his hat forgotten. “What stung you?”
