Stranded – Part 2

Brittany and Janelle grabbed what little they could carry and headed back down the road form the direction they came.  It was still early in the day, so with heads held high they hoped they could reach a town before dark, or a major highway, or have a good Samaritan come their way…as long as it wasn’t a “good” Samaritan.  Janelle had seen way too many horror movies, and episodes of CSI to trust friendly motorists.  Not that it was likely they would see any along the way, chances were reception would be found first.  However, both girls silently agreed not to take a ride from a man…or a semi truck driver.

At first the hike into a town the girls remained glum and silent.  But after a while, feet started to hurt, bags got heavy and sweat dripped off of brows.

“I’m hot!” Janelle complained, breaking the silence.

“What do you want me to do about it? I don’t control the weather!”

“Do you have any water?”  Brittany grumbled and opened her clutch purse, showing Janelle that there was no way a bottle of water could fit in the tiny compartment.  “Well that’s just great, we’re going to die in the desert.”

“No, we’re not going to die in the desert. I refuse to be found dead on the roadside like an unfortunate opossum!”

“Right,” Janelle countered.  “Like our bodies would even be found before the vultures pecked the flesh off our bones.”

“Oh gross, Janelle! You know, you can be very morbid sometimes! Ugh!  Besides, I saw on Discovery once that you can drink your own urine to stay dehydrated.”

Ew! Now who’s being disgusting, Brittany?  Didn’t Ms. Andersen say something about being able to drink for a cactus, in bio last year?”

“Maybe…that sounds familiar.  But, do you see any cactus?  I don’t think the yuccas count.”

The two continued their verbal banter as they kept walking, their pace not as fast as when they initially set out.  They watched the sun rise in the sky and worried that it would be dark before they found any civilization.  Neither one of them was prepared to spend a night out in the desert.  The closest thing to survival training either of them had ever experienced was brief introduction to first aid they had to take in health class.

Suddenly, Brittany fell to the ground.

“Get up Brittany!  Stop being so melodramatic!  I’m not going to carry you.”

“Shut-up, Janelle and help me! I can’t feel my legs!”

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