Mungus: Book 1 by Chad Leito

Author:Chad Leito [Leito, Chad]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2014-03-30T22:00:00+00:00

11

Trapped

I couldn’t believe how quickly our supplies were gone. We tried to eat and drink sparingly, but hadn’t done a good enough job. The raw chicken went bad in the satchel and we had to throw it away. Over the course of four hungry and thirsty days we ate our two cans of food, one of green beans one of peaches, and we also drank our canisters dry of water. Even though we were thirsty, nature showed no mercy. The cicadas buzzed and the sun beat down hazy waves of heat over the earth. Saul and I didn’t drift far from town on those first few days. We were leashed towards civilization by a fear of walking deep into the woods and never seeing another person again. We found, however, that our concern took a backseat whenever our dehydrated bodies begged us for water and our canisters were empty and the cloudless sky showed no promise of rain.

We wandered through the forest without aim, the blood beating hard in our aching heads. We went between tree trunks and over dry riverbeds, never finding water and being drained of our sweat by the heat, and being drained of our blood by the mosquitoes. We were delirious and often bickered.

“You said to go left, Saul! I did and look where we are; right back where we started!”

“I didn’t want to even leave the farm. I was doing fine there! I liked it! You’re an idiot, Walt!”

But in the end, after we threw our temper tantrums, we always apologized and the other person always accepted. It’s hard to hold a grudge when it’s that hot.

The first night without water was awful. We slept on the ground and I woke up all throughout the night. I would dream of cool waters or being back up on the ship, only to open my eyes and remember that my mouth was as dry as a salt bed and that my brother and I were wanted men.

The next day, Saul and I woke up and began to walk without any sense of direction or plans, but with a wish in our hearts to find water. Saul carried the satchel around his shoulders and his white shirt was stained yellow from sweat. He was acting funny, giggling sometimes and nearly on the verge of crying others. He made me stop often so that he could check the canteens.

“Wait,” he would tell me. “I think that there was actually a little water left in one of the canteens, remember? We saved that last bit after we finished the peach juice.”

“No, Saul, we didn’t.”

He opened all of the canteens anyway to find nothing but air. He would then pout and complain, accusing me of stealing his water. After some talking to and time, he came to his senses. This happened so often that eventually I carried the satchel so that Saul would not stop us every so often to see if a canteen magically filled up with water.

When the second

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