Storm over the Caribbean

13. A Drop in the Bucket

Dammit! Why did he have to be so caring and thoughtful? That made it almost impossible to be pissed off at him!

Without a word of complaint, he held me until my stomach stopped rebelling. When it finally did, he pulled me back against his chest, holding me close.

"Better?"

"Y-yes." Taking a deep breath, I sank against him.

"Adequate. Then we can proceed." Reaching behind him, he held out something towards me. "Breakfast?"

"Bleeeargh!"

All right, scratch what I said about him being thoughtful.

It took a while before my stomach once more decided to settle. In the end, my mouth tasted of dried donkey droppings and felt as raw as sandpaper. The water rationing was already showing its effects.

"Here."

Looking up, I saw Mr Rikkard Ambrose holding out a coconut to me. Greedily, I grabbed it and began to drink. Only after I had finished the second one did a realization sink in.

"B-but that's your ration, too!" I managed.

"I am aware."

Scowling, I punched his shoulder. Bloody chauvinist! "You can't just do stuff like that! We two are equals! We should get exactly the same, no more, no less!"

He shook his head. "Not two." His hand came to rest on her stomach. "Three."

I felt something tug on my heart strings, hard. What was I supposed to say against something like that?

You can't. That's probably why he said it.

That goddamn infuriating, stubborn, block-headed, loveable idiot!

"Come." Sliding his hand up to my shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. "We have to move."

I swallowed. "All right." He wasn't wrong. We did have to go. But...

I raised a finger, nearly stabbing it into his nose. "Next time, we both drink, understood?"

You want to guess what I received in answer to that?

Yep, that's right. Silence.

Somehow, that icy silence warmed my heart.

As we rose and prepared to depart, tropical birds began to sing in the trees, and other animals started chattering all around. The half-shadows of the morning were pierced by beams of golden sunlight as the dark faded and the day began. Today, Mr Rikkard Ambrose took point, striding straight into the jungle. Hurrying to catch up, I asked something that only just occurred to me.

"Say...where are we going, exactly? It's not as if we have a map of this place. How do we know we're not just going in circles?"

"Simple." He lifted his arm.

I blinked, trying to see where he was pointing. But there was nothing there except green and some colourful petals.

"What...?"

Then I suddenly realized: he wasn't pointing at anything. He was simply extending his arm at an angle. The same angle as, I only now noticed, the ground beneath our feet.

"We're heading uphill! Why?"

"Two reasons." He held up one finger. "First, water runs down from uphill, and the tops of hills encompass far smaller areas than the valleys around them. So if we go up a mountain, we will have more chances of encountering running water, within a much smaller search area." Another finger rose. "Second, even if we do not find water, if we find a high enough mountain, we might be able to survey the surroundings and discover a water source that way."