Page 16 of Us Deadly Few

Adan guffawed. “What? I was just trying to make small talk. I didn’t expect him to look like he wanted to stab me.”

“I don’t think you’re the skin he’s trying to get under.” Brock appeared from around the corner, adjusting the straps of his backpack. Khalani let out a harsh breath, feeling like the sly comment was aimed directly at her.

What they didn’t know was that only thing Takeshi liked getting under was her nerves.

As the others hurried to gather their things, Adan sneakily tucked the magazine into his pack.

“Are you sure that’s essential?” Khalani raised an eyebrow.

Adan smirked and leaned in. “Unless you plan on stripping along the way so I don’t have to stare at Brock’s ass for inspiration, it definitely is.”

“What about my ass?” Brock snapped, glaring at them.

“Nothing,” they answered at the same time.

4

Doubts signify the disbelief in yourself.

Khalani licked her cracked, sunburned lips. She drank the last of her warm water hours ago, and her canteen was as barren as the desert they trudged through.

Mirages of flowing water spilled across the concrete, torturing Khalani’s mind as her feet mindlessly dragged, each step more reluctant than the last.

Brock’s steady pace quickened, insisting a Death-Zone water well was nearby and urged everyone to move faster.

She tried her best to keep up, but it might not be so bad if she just lay down on the road…

“C’mon, Khalani,” Derek urged, pressing a hand against her back, keeping her upright. “We’re almost there.”

She blinked multiple times, trying to clear her blurry vision.

No one spoke. The playful energy had vanished.

All that remained was their labored breathing and the sound of heavy boots smacking against the ground.

She glanced to her right. Takeshi had his strong arm around Winnie’s waist, supporting most of her weight. As they walked, Winnie’s face was unnaturally pale, and her feet dragged like a heavy ball was attached to her ankles.

When Khalani realized she was no longer sweating, even while the sun blazed down the back of her neck, a dreaded apprehension sunk deep into her gut.

“There,” Brock said, interrupting the tense quiet. Her knees nearly buckled as he pointed ahead. She scanned the horizon for the beautiful well—their only hope of survival in the Death-Zone.

But there was nothing except the barren road, brown jagged cliffs, and endless stretches of sand.

“Brock, where’s the well?” Khalani croaked, her voice hoarse.

Brock ignored her question and bolted toward a thin green stick protruding from the sand. He knelt, scanning the ground intensely as he muttered under his breath.

“If your plan is for us to eat sand next, I’m definitely killing you,” Serene huffed with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Shut up,” Brock growled, digging frantically into the sand.

Khalani swayed on her feet, her eyelids starting to close when Brock suddenly shouted, “I found it!”

He uncovered a beige hatch buried beneath the sand. A set of numbers were discreetly etched on the surface, and without hesitation, Brock entered a ten-digit code.

With a satisfying pop, the cover opened, revealing a dark hole in the ground and a long rope leading into its black depths.

She warily stumbled forward as Brock began pulling on the rope, gritting his teeth as his forearms flexed. Khalani’s limbs shook, ready to give way, but as soon as Brock lifted a large bucket full of water out of the hole, everyone surged forward, dire thirst clawing at them like ravenous beasts.

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