The next morning, I wake to Madox licking my face. I have to admit, with my skin feeling like crispified meat loaf, it isn’t the worst sensation in the world. Without opening my eyes, I turn my cheek and allow him access to the other side. My mind is still hazy with sleep, so I don’t think to check if someone is watching — until now.
My eyes snap open.
I find Olivia looking at me with sheer disgust dripping from her face.
I push Madox away gently and pull myself up. She’s the only one awake. I’m thankful for that, at least.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I say.
“That makes it sound so much worse,” she responds, shaking her head. Her elephant is sleeping next to her, its legs folded beneath it. It sounds like it’s snoring.
I glance down at Madox, whose body is writhing with excitement. He’s thrilled that I’m awake, and I love him so much for that, it nearly hurts. Looking back at Olivia, I try again.
“I was half asleep,” I say. “I would never make him —”
Olivia smiles, and I realize she’s messing with me. “Sorry, I got bored keeping watch all alone. Humiliating you is the most fun I’ve had all morning.”
I breathe out and kind of half laugh. “I thought you were serious.”
“Nope.”
I survey our campsite and spot Jaxon spread out on his twig bed. His left hand twitches. “I would’ve thought Harper would assign you two to keep watch together.”
“She did.”
“Oh.” I fight the urge to smile, but lose the battle. The corner of my mouth tugs upward and Olivia matches the gesture.
“You’re all right, Tella.” Olivia stands up and walks over to Jaxon. As she nears him, I think about what a grown-up thing that is to say. You’re all right. The chubby girl squats down and gets close to Jaxon’s ear. She fills her lungs, opens her mouth, and yells, “Heeeeeey, Jaxon.”
He doesn’t move.
Olivia looks at me. “I think he’s dead.”
“I assure you, I’m not,” Jaxon mumbles.
The girl smiles and slaps him on the back. “Up and at ’em.”
Jaxon lies still, but the rest of the Contenders begin dusting themselves off and putting their clothes back on. When Guy glances at me, I silently kick myself for sleeping through my shift. I know Harper must have assigned us to keep watch together, and I know he didn’t wake me — as usual. I had so many questions to ask. Questions that’ll have to wait another day.
When Guy takes a pull on his canteen, we all do the same. There’s hardly any water left in my chrome bottle, and I assume from the concerned looks on the other Contenders’ faces that I’m not alone in this predicament.
“We should keep heading east,” Guy says. His voice is rough from sleep, and I have a strange urge to lay a kiss on his throat. “Harper, you want to continue leading?”
Harper avoids his gaze and instead stares at her Pandora, who’s flapping the dust from her wings. She couldn’t send a clearer sign; she’s too tired from yesterday to lead today.
“No, I want to lead,” I say. “It’s my turn.” As soon as I speak the words, I regret them. My skin is raw and blistering, and my legs are sore from trudging through the sand. I’d actually rather pour the remaining water from my canteen into the wind than lead this group. But I don’t want Harper to be embarrassed.
Harper shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.”
Before we head out, RX-13 and Jaxon’s Pandora, Z-54, hunt for food. They return with bitter green fruit and we force it down. Guy says it’s good they found this, that the fruit is mostly water and will help quench our thirst. I seriously doubt that.
Just as it did yesterday, the sun beats down with a vengeance. It’s like it has a personal vendetta against human beings and wants nothing more than to fry our asses like bacon. Which I could totally go for about now. And pancakes. Powdered sugar, blueberries, syrup — the works. Ugh. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and every breath I take burns my throat. The Pandoras hike alongside us, and I can tell that even though they were designed for this race, they’re struggling in these conditions.
Z-54, the sleek-bodied cheetah, strides along in front of me. The design of his body allows him an ease of movement the rest of us don’t have. Every so often, it’s like the animal catches himself and slows to match our pace. And each time he turns his head, I see his mouth hanging open, panting in the sweltering sun. I follow his paw marks in the sand, leading our group across the desert dunes, thankful for the guide.
After three hours of hiking, I hear something drop behind me. Turning around, I notice Dink slumped into the sand. All of our faces are coated in sweat and grit. But his looks different, almost swollen. “He needs water,” Caroline says, flustered. She pulls the canteen from across his shoulders and opens it. Holding the bottle to his lips, she tips it upward. He doesn’t react, and I soon learn why.
There’s nothing left inside.
“Oh my God. I knew this would happen.” Caroline looks at me — brow furrowed — as if I have the answers. “How are we supposed to survive out here?”
Olivia drops down and covers her face, like she’s been fighting the urge all morning. I glance at Guy, who looks every bit as concerned as Caroline does. I give him a look that says, What are we going to do?
He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. “We need to find a body of water.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jaxon says, kneeling to rub Olivia’s back. “But that doesn’t exist in the desert.”
“Actually, in many deserts, it does.” Guy massages the back of his neck. “Some deserts have streams running through them, and others lie adjacent to oceans or snow-capped mountains.”
“But an ocean won’t help us,” Harper says.
“No.” Guy looks at me. “But a stream or snow will.”
I can’t fathom being anywhere near snow. It doesn’t seem possible. Jaxon stands and squints up at the sky. “Maybe we should travel at night,” he says. “It wouldn’t be as hot.”
It seems like a brilliant plan, but Guy shakes his head. “That’s what’s easiest, so it’s what other Contenders will do. We need to travel during the day if we want to circumvent … conflict. Also, too many predators come out at night. We won’t be able to avoid them if we can’t see.”
Jaxon’s face drops with defeat. “Then what are we going to do? We’ll die in this heat, or we’ll die from predators. How do these pricks expect us to live?”
“Guys,” Caroline says, her voice cracking. “We have to give Dink our water or he’s not going to —” She stops and weeps into her hands. Her back convulses, but when she pulls her palms away, they’re dry. We can’t even cry anymore, we’re so dehydrated.
Olivia flops onto her back and squeezes her eyes shut. “I finished my water, too,” she says in almost a whisper. “And I don’t think I can survive this day without more.”
Olivia’s Pandora — which she told me this morning is named EV-0 — startles like it heard and understood her. In a flash, the elephant stomps away from Olivia and rears its head back. The Pandora raises its trunk into the air and then drives it into the sand. Madox barks and jumps in circles as the elephant blows through its trunk and sand showers the air. The Pandora blows again and again, and more and more sand sprays up, creating a cloud of yellow.
“What’s it doing?” Harper yells, waving her arms in front of her face.
“I — I don’t know.” Olivia stands. She goes to move toward EV-0, but Jaxon grabs the back of her shirt and pulls her against him. Harper watches the way Jaxon shields Olivia with a strange look on her face. One I can’t quite read with the airborne sand blurring my vision.