Water in a Time of Thirst

Chapter Six

The truck eased to a stop on the outskirts of a farm where cornstalks swayed like an emerald ocean under the golden sun. It was strange how much the scenery could change with just a few hours of driving north. Like night and day, the desert transformed into patches of grass with trees still bearing leaves, and lakes still holding puddles of water. Thankfully, the false promises luring people to the coastal states, kept the ones bordering Canada from becoming overrun. It was a tragic blessing Corbin's family was grateful for, since potable water and agriculture had become more and more difficult in their community with each passing year.

Corbin left the engine idling as he glanced at Everleigh. She'd fallen asleep with her face pressed to the window halfway through the trip. Nudging her, she bolted upright, her eyes wild, and her hands balled into fists.

"Relax," Corbin said. "It's just me."

"Why are we stopped?" She stretched and twisted to check Armis's saline supply, but found the IV drip full.

"I filled it while you were sleeping. Didn't want to wake you."

"How long was I out?"

"About four hours... maybe more," he replied.

"Maybe more? You should have woken me up!"

"It's ok." He reached over and squeezed her knee. "You needed the rest. Besides, the drive to Idaho isn't that fascinating. It's just dusty with mountains and tumbleweeds."

Her brown eyes shifted to her leg, prompting Corbin to remove his hand, an apology tumbling off his lips. When she looked at him, he smiled, but she rolled her eyes before facing the road. "Is that snow?"

"On those mountains?" Corbin pointed. "Yep. Those are the Rockies. They go all the way into Canada, and where there's snow, there's freshwater. That's why we go north. My uncle Domino lives here, and the border is just a few days' travels on horseback. He can fix your brother."

"Horseback?" Everleigh laughed.

"Horses don't require gas to keep them powered. Our ride has blessed us so far, lil lady." He winked, causing Everleigh's mouth to split into a smile for the first time in hours.

It was hard to believe she was capable of brutally killing someone when her happiness made her appear so soft. Delicate. As if she needed someone to shield her from the horrors the drought caused. He was fortunate to remember a time when no one worried about running out of water and witchers could walk around freely like anyone else.

"How old were you when the drought began?" he asked.

"Began? All I've known is the drought."

"Oh, so you were born after," Corbin concluded.

"I guess so." She shrugged. "Armis was born before it... I think. He's five years older than me, so he'd know best."

"And Armis is how old?"

"I'm not sure. Twenty-nine, thirty? After a while, it became senseless keeping track."

"I suppose you're right. So that would make you twenty-four or twenty-five."

"And you?" She tilted her head.