By evening he had traveled another goodly distance, by his estimation. That seemed quite impossible, but the air was also cooler along it. He stepped out of the plane, wrapped his neck scarf around his head as an ephemeral shield against the sun’s rays, and leaned against the fuselage, wondering if he had made a mistake? One was to keep the fighter planes busy, and the second group was to attack the convoy at all costs and stop it. He would have to save some more to last him the rest of the way, but if it still wasn’t real what did it matter. It’s the thing I want most in this world.”
“Okay, I’ll do it for you,” Melina said more like a whisper and heard the water clinking in the canister. He awoke long before sunrise and waited like thorns for the first ray. A man lasts without air for three minutes, in a blizzard for three hours, and without water for only three days.
