T
hey didn't make it.
The ancient Fiat was newer than the Mercedes, but the Italian design just wasn't cut out for desert driving.
Brill tried to avoid the potholes and ruts that dotted the sand wash roadway, but the impossible task was made even tougher by the three of them crammed into the two seater car.
The axle gave out two miles from the refuge of the mountains.
"We're hoofing it," Brill climbed out of the car feeling like a clown at a circus.
Amanda put her hands on the roof and hauled herself out beside him.
"How far?"
"Couple of miles to the path," he said.
"Then we wait for dark and cross at night."
"Can we make it?"
Brill studied the landscape behind them.
There were a couple of dust trails that could be vehicles in the wavy shimmering of the heat filled air, but the way behind them was clear.
"We're going to make it," he told her.
There still had miles to cover, but with no direct pursuit, he felt good about their chances.
Besides after he had been rescued from precariously similar circumstances all he wanted was a little reassurance.
He could give the same to the girl and her friend.
Rain doubled up on the gear bags.
"Does she have to wear that out here?" he indicated the shawl and veil covering
Amanda's head and shoulders.
"Pack it in," said Brill.
He planned keep the turban and use it to block the sun.
Amanda had the same idea and wrapped the veil around her head like a pirate's bandana.
She passed the shawl to Rain so he could use it.
Brill set a fast pace across the desert, cradling one of the rifles with the other slung across his back.
He kept watch on the dust trails and their rear, eyes constantly searching in front and behind them for any threats.
Being out in the open in daylight left him feeling exposed, but three people marching shot up a hell of a lot less dust than the Fiat.
He hoped they were blending in.
Rain passed out.
One minute he was marching with them, the next Brill heard a thud and glanced back.
"Rain!" Amanda rushed to him and checked his pulse.
Brill knelt beside them.
"We haven't eaten," she told him.
Brill grunted in anger at himself.
Of course the man passed out, he'd been at least three days without food, beaten and now without thinking, Brill had force marched him through desert heat.
That Amanda was still standing gave him a little thrill of respect.
She was as tough on the brain pan as she was resourceful.
Brill pulled a water bottle out of one of the pockets of his coat, the last of his supply from the trip in.
"I cached supplies on the other side of the mountain," he told her. "See if this helps."
She started to lift Rain's head and dribble it into his mouth.
"You first," said Brill. "I can't carry you both."
She looked at him unsure for a few moments and then saw the reason in his argument.
She may be mentally tough, but the strain and lack of resources was taking its toll on her as well.
She felt like she was moving in a fog.
He watched her tilt the bottle and take three small swallows, trying to conserve it for the man down.
"Half," said Brill.
She took a couple more gulps, measuring after each to make sure she only took half.
She showed the bottle to Brill.
He took it from her, lifted Rain's head and dropped it in his mouth drip by slow drip.
Natural reflex took over and Rain swallowed it all.
He still didn't come around though.
"I'm going to have to carry him," said Brill. "Can you haul a gear bag?"
She nodded and stood with an outstretched hand to take the bag.
She started to sway but Brill caught her arm and held her upright.
"Sorry," she gasped. "Lightheaded."
Brill cursed himself again for foregoing the protein bars and extra water bottles that were a few miles across the mountain range hidden in a gorge.
He should have known they might need them.
And now with the two of them incapacitated, it would slow them down even more.
"I can't carry you both," he said.
"I can walk," she assured him. "It was just the blood rushing back. I'm okay."
He didn't let go of her arm.
"I can make it. We're not far, right?"
"A couple of miles."
"I can do a couple of miles," she offered a weak smile. "Maybe a few more than that."
Mental toughness is one of those things that can't be measured until it's observed.
Brill had seen tough looking men go down crying like babies when lack of sleep and deprivation broke down their barriers.
He had run a few ultra-marathon races where grownups laid down on the side of the trail and sobbed until the were dry heaving.
Part of Recce training had been building mental fortitude, and Brill used meditation and endurance training to keep it sharp.
He respected it in others and this woman was showing a level that made his admiration double.
He slung the bags over each shoulder so the straps crossed his chest and they rested on each hip.
He respected Rain too because the bags were heavy and the scarecrow man had hauled them both without voicing a word of complaint.
Brill settled him across his shoulders in a fireman's carry, adjusted so that everything sat right and he still had access to a rifle.
Amanda took the other rifle since she couldn't carry a bag and they set off for the safety of the mountains.