Richard Stephenson - Collapse

“Well I’ll be a son of a bitch. I think this might just be my new summer home.” Tank clapped Richard on the back and smiled.

“Okay, let’s get in there and rest up if we’re gonna walk through the night.”

“You sure this isn’t a waste of time? We’re grown-ass men. I think we can stand a little heat.”

“It’s just not the smart thing to do. In a couple of hours it’s gonna get about ten or fifteen degrees hotter, and we can’t afford to lose the amount of fluid it would take to move in this heat. The water in this riverbed could be thirty minutes away or it could be two hours away. We could pass out from heat stroke and die before we get to it.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

The two fugitives climbed under the shelter and enjoyed the shade for the next few hours. Richard estimated that the temperature was close to a hundred and twenty degrees. The temperature under the shelter felt twenty degrees cooler. A very slight breeze managed to circulate into the shelter, leaving them quite comfortable. Neither could fall asleep, but they were able to relax their weary bodies and regain their strength. Richard looked outside and studied the sun. It would be dipping below the horizon soon. It was time to get moving.

“Let’s go. We’ll split the bottle of Gatorade and each drink a bottle of water. We also need to eat something before we set out.”

“I’m starving! Let’s split the beef jerky.”

“No, we need to save that for later.”

“Why?”

“In this situation it’s bad to eat a lot of protein. Your body has to work harder to digest it and you need to drink more water to do it. We need to eat other foods that have carbs and salt — carbs for energy and salt to replenish what you’ve lost while sweating.”

“So you’re a survival expert and a fucking nutritionist? Anything you don’t know?”

“C’mon, start eating. We need to get moving.”

Richard took out two packages of spam and a box of saltine crackers.

“Thought we couldn’t have protein?”

“Spam has twice as much fat as it does protein. Beef jerky has twice the protein as spam.”

“Seriously, are you a fucking nutritionist? Jesus!”

“No, it says so on the label.”

“You’re so smart you piss me off sometimes.”

“If you want to run things the rest of the way, be my guest.”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“C’mon, time to start walking. Same routine as this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two men packed up their gear and starting walking down the riverbed. The sun was beginning to set and the temperature dropped significantly. An hour and a half after they set out, they finally found the water they’d been searching for.

“You’re not seriously suggesting we drink that.”

“Yeah, we’re drinking it. No choice.”

“That’s not water, Richard. It’s slime.”

“Not for long it won’t be.”

“I knew you’d say some shit like that. Is this gonna kick more ass than the shelter?”

“Probably.”

“Can’t wait to see this.”

They dropped their gear by the riverbed and began collecting large river rocks. They had to pad their hands with t-shirts to keep from burning them on the hot rocks. Richard piled them into a pyramid and added his collection of sticks and dead vegetation to the stack. Then he laid out all the excess laundry they’d stolen from the prison and decided to use half of it on the fire. Once the fire was going, Richard took the half full windshield wiper tank and filled it the rest of the way with the slimy water. Next, he placed the tank on an impromptu tri-pod made of sticks and cord.

“So, the fire is going to cook away all the slime and shit?”

“Not all of it, no. The rest we need to run through a filter.”

“Oh, now I get why we took the air filter out of the SUV.”

“Yeah, that’s part of it.”

Richard brought the liquid to a boil, and then removed it from the heat. He continued to let the fire burn down until it went out. While he waited for that, he took out the folding knife and cut the tops off two out of the four twenty ounce water bottles they had brought along for the trip, filling one with sand and the other with charcoal from the fire. After using the folding knife to cut holes in the bottom of each water bottle, Richard placed the empty Gatorade bottle on the ground. As Tank held the makeshift sand and charcoal filters, one on top of the other, Richard slowly poured the slimy water through them and into the larger bottle.

“I can’t fucking believe it. That looks like water out of a faucet,” said Tank.

“Drink up, next one is mine.”

They repeated the process several times until they’d both consumed a gallon of water. Once they’d emptied their bladders, they repeated the process and drank until their stomachs were so full they couldn’t drink another drop. After refilling the Gatorade and water bottles with clean water, they did the same with the wiper fluid tank and fashioned it into a backpack with cordage from the rope. Tank gladly volunteered to carry the one and a half gallon tank of drinking water. They walked through the night, stopping to get some rest a few hours before dawn. A few hours later they set out again, and when the noonday sun was directly overhead, they rebuilt their primitive shelter and waited out the scorching heat. When the sun was low enough in the sky, they set out again with one looming problem — Tank’s eye. It was nearly swollen shut and leaking a fetid pus. Tank walked much slower than he had the day before, and they had to stop several times to wait for the pain to subside.

Around midnight they came across an abandoned gas station that had obviously been empty for a very long time. Richard and Tank entered the condemned building like it was a four star hotel. Richard cleaned out the office as best he could as Tank laid down on the desk.

“Hold still. Let me see your eye.”

Richard took the dirty bandage from Tank’s head and inspected the infected and swollen eye.

“Billy, I have to do something about your eye. You’re not getting any better.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Well, I’m gonna get a fire going and boil some water so I can sanitize one of the t-shirts to use as a bandage. I’ll sterilize the knife as well.”

“Hurry up and do it before I change my mind.”

Richard found a small metal bucket and filled it with the water. He started a fire outside with some old cardboard boxes. Once the water was boiling, he cut a shirt in half and dropped it in to boil for a few minutes. Not wanting to waste the water, he dropped the knife into the Gatorade bottle and set it in the boiling water. Richard walked back into the office and had to wake up Tank again. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Hold still, Billy, this is gonna hurt. A lot.”

“Hurry the fuck up! Shit! Just do it already!”

Richard cleaned the area around his eye as best he could with hand sanitizer and carefully cut an incision one inch under Tank’s eye. Tank flinched and gritted his teeth. He bore the pain very well. Blood mixed with clear fluid and pus drained from the incision and ran down his cheek. Richard pressed gingerly on the swelling to draw out more of the infection. He used half the shirt to clean the incision and then wiped up the blood and pus from Billy’s cheek. Richard then took the other half of the shirt and slowly lifted Tank’s head up to wrap the bandage around his eye.

“It’s over, Billy. Get some rest.”

Tank slept fitfully through the night and when he woke the next morning, his fever had finally broken. Richard changed his bandage twice a day for two days and was pleased that the swelling was continuing to go down. Once the swelling was completely gone, they packed up their gear and headed toward Las Vegas with the sunset at their backs.