Free The Red Pearl by C. K. Brooke Page A

“What are you hiding from me? Why won’t you tell me how you got the—?”
    “Because it’s none of your business, all right?” he shouted.
    She ceased speaking. Heart pounding, Rob lowered his head back onto his pillow. He was sorry for losing his temper, but he simply couldn’t tell her how he’d come to possess the map. Only he, Rowena and Adams knew the truth—another thought which was entirely distressing.
    Ignoring his thirst, Rob attempted to sleep. Eventually, he drifted, images of streams and lakes pouring through his dreams, tantalizing him. He awoke coughing before dawn, and reached for the nearest bottle. The man drank deeply, knowing he needed to stop, to control himself…but couldn’t. Before he knew it, he’d emptied the whole bottle.
    He dropped his head into his hands, massaging the sleep from his eyes. If they weren’t careful, they would run out of water by the end of the day. And what then?
    Antonia soon awoke, her hair still tied back from the previous day, and Rob couldn’t help but notice how flawlessly her face radiated under the rising sun. Why, Rowena’s skin had never shone like that. For one senseless moment, he imagined waking up beside Antonia every morning, nuzzling those fair cheeks that glowed like the moon.
    His stomach tossed as he recalled the way her pouty lips felt against his, how soft and juicy they tasted…and how badly he wanted them, all over again, that very instant. Like with the water he could not refrain from imbibing, his desire was uncontrollable.
    Stop, he urged himself. She’d commanded him never to touch her again. And anyway, his heart was unavailable. Conflicted, Rob finally removed his eyes from her. He was hot and thirsty, was all, and it was addling his mind.
    As the sun rose, he offered the girl breakfast, but she shook her head. “It’ll only make me thirsty.”
    He looked down. “Well, let’s hope we find water today.”
    After refueling the carriage, Rob set it into gear. Mile after mile they drove, passing fields of stone and sand, fat cacti and the occasional skull of some vermin or another. Overhead, a bird of prey circled aimlessly, casting its fearsome shadow onto the ground beside them. At high noon, they stopped to stretch, but did not eat, for fear of bringing on thirst. They kept their eyes peeled for greenery, but saw none. To Maverick, Rob fed an apple, hoping the juices would hydrate the animal.
    Another day ended, and they’d only half a bottle of water left. Antonia scanned the scenery. “We’ve got to come across a stream or something eventually,” she insisted, though not entirely with conviction. “Otherwise, how would anything live out here?”
    Rob grunted. “It’s the desert. Hardly anything does.”
    She heaved a breath, slumping in her seat. “I just want to dive into a lake and wash all this dust off me, and drink and drink…”
    Rob’s hands twitched over the steering wheel. “Don’t talk like that.”
    “Axacola has the ocean, no?” She turned to him, wide-eyed. “Are we almost there? Please tell me we’re almost there…”
    He clenched his jaw, gauging the sun’s position. “I’m trying to get us there as fast I can, I promise you. It may be another day or two through the Pirsi, I’m not exactly sure. But even then…” He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. “The ocean’s still a while away.”
    Antonia closed her eyes. “The ocean. ”
    Rob said nothing, shuttling on.
    The following morning, they found their last bottle empty. The day was another fruitless hunt for any sign of water—or the desert’s end—whichever came first. Alas, nothing. That is, until a still shadow of a wet pool materialized on the horizon.
    Rob slammed on the accelerator. “Annie,” he breathed, pointing ahead.
    She squinted. “Is that…?”
    His parched lips quivered. But though he drove for miles, he never seemed to approach it. By mid-afternoon, the pool had all but evaporated.
    “I don’t