I'd gained back my strength far faster than my companions had. Their strength was severely flagging now; almost back to that initial state. I heard someone stumble, fall. No other sounds. No quickened heartbeat, no labored breathing. No breathing at all except to talk — you had to draw breath for that.

"Wait, please," cried Charles, down on his knees. Juan, younger, more fit. was almost a dozen paces ahead of him. Both lagged a significant distant behind me. Juan kept walking until he reached me, his swarthy skin damp with a heavy sheen of sweat. He looked tired but still able to go on. Charles, on the other hand, had clearly reached the end of his limit.

When Juan looked as if he were going to continue walking, I said, "Charles won't be able to travel farther without rest."

Juan paused and licked his dry, parched lips. "You stopping?"

"Yeah. Were you going to leave him behind?"

"We're almost there." There being that darker patch of land. "A few more hours and we'll reach water."

"I'm going back," I said, and started trudging back to Charles. A moment's hesitation and Juan fell into step beside me.

"Thank you," Charles said. His face was an alarming shade of lobster red. Thick beads of perspiration dripped down his face. We were all damp and sweaty in the oppressive heat, but Charles was excessively so.

"Just a short rest and I'll be all right," he said, his voice sounding scratchy and dry.

Juan looked frankly dubious of that but refrained from any comments. He supported Charles on one side while I grabbed the other arm. Together we heaved him to his feet and dragged him over to the closest shade available, that cast by a small stunted shrub.

"Lie down and rest," I said, easing him down. There was only enough shade to cover his face. The rest of his body still baked under the two uneven suns.