Large drops of water drummed on the tarp overhead as Dani stared at it. She lay on her back, nestled in the cramped space between Cruz and Jag with her hands folded on her stomach. Every few minutes, her attention shifted from the pooling water overhead to Jag. He lay silently with his eyes closed—that is, until her gaze lingered a little too long. Then he’d pop an eye open and she’d quickly look away. At times his breathing seemed labored and she worried about his injury, but he didn’t seem to be in too much pain.
The cut on her side bothered her somewhat, but not enough to bring to anyone’s attention. She didn’t want to waste any medical supplies on her minor wound when Jag’s seemed so much worse.
The water pooled in the center of the tarp until a stream formed, running from the top.
