“Are you all right?” Zero asked from above. Stanley groaned as he pulled a thorn out of the palm of his hand.
“Yeah,” he said. He was all right. He was worried more about the jars of water.
Zero climbed down after him, retrieving the sack along the way. Stanley pulled some thorns out of his pant legs.
The jars hadn’t broken. The onions had protected them, like Styrofoam packing material.
“Glad you didn’t do that when you were carrying me,” Zero said.
They’d lost about a third of the onions, but recovered many of them as they continued down the mountain.
When they reached the bottom, the sun was just rising above the lake. They walked directly toward it.
Soon they stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down on the dry lake bed.
Stanley wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see the remains of the Mary Lou off in the distance.
“You thirsty?” Stanley asked. “No,” said Zero. “How about you?” “No,” Stanley lied.
He didn’t want to be the first one to take a drink. Although they didn’t mention it, it had become a kind of challenge between him and Zero.
They climbed down into the frying pan. It was a different spot from where they had climbed up.
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