Hot enough for you?

        The desert shimmered in the heat waves. A man drew a thick forearm across



blackened lips. He looked down at the canteen. One third full. The last of it.       

         

        A young woman was at his feet, supporting herself, clinging to his leg.



Michelle was half out of her mind to see or touch anything but the murderous sand.



Her skin was blistered and there was a glazed look in her eyes. She was



hallucinating and now his leg was the one reality she was clinging to.       

       

        She had hired him for a private airplane trip across the desert. Halfway



through, engine trouble had forced a landing on a relatively level part of the hot



sand. When he looked at the engine, it was apparent that someone had notched



into his belts. He cursed himself for being in a hurry and skipping the pre-flight



check of the plane. The belts lasted for a little while, but the strain was too much



with the "modifications". Modifications that were likely courteous of his competitor



in the private Cessna for hire business.       

       

        The radio and both their cellphones worked just fine except... there was no



signal. There would be no help coming to the rescue. The nearest outpost, water,



and civilization were about 100 miles due east of where they had been forced



down. Private planes rarely flew in this area. Commercial planes would be far too



high to even spot them even if they happened to fly over.       

         

          Carter, the man, and Michelle, the client/passenger began to walk east,



hoping on the off chance that another plane flying overhead would spot them. This



was the second day. They had barely covered 20 miles, about one fifth the



distance. The sun was merciless. They had stopped because Michelle could walk



no further. Carter was strong, far stronger than the average man, but the heat and



dehydration had weakened him to the point that he could barely walk himself.



Carrying her was out of the question.       



          Carter knew the girl would be dead within hours. Dehydration and the effects



of the sun had given her blistering, badly burned skinned. If he kept the last of the



water for himself he could possibly make it one more day. He didn't have the heart



to just leave her there to die. He could wait there with her till she died and then



start off again during the cooler night. He contemplated using the one bullet from



his .22 to put her out of her agony. Why should she suffer when the end was



inevitable? She was going to die, he was going to die. He didn't want to see her die



in agony and come to think of it, he didn't want to see himself die in agony either.       



He bent down and gave her the last of the water. He lied to her and said, "Go



ahead I already had some." He made sure her dry cracked lips received moisture



also. Would this gesture prolong her agony for several more hours?         



        He was rugged, he took the pain with a stoicism of a statue. Yet, he couldn't



bear to see the once beautiful young beautiful girl in such pain. Michelle seemed to



be revived somewhat and said, "Why'd you give me the last of the water?" Carter



lied again and said, "I know this area and know for a fact that there is an oasis just



about half a mile away, just over that next dune over there," as he pointed. Slowly



he reached for the pistol. One bullet. He was going to put an end to watching her



slowly die in pain and suffering before his eyes.



Michelle was trying to raise herself up to see over the dune and was staring off in



the direction that Carter had pointed.       

       

          She heard the click and then the bang. Carter crumpled next to her -  dead