Wasteland

Начало книги

“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Falcon pulled the sheet up to the chest of his eight year old son. It wasn’t cold. In fact, it was very hot but he knew sometimes a sheet could make things seem cooler.

His son Josh was thin and small for his age which wasn’t unusual. Falcon brought his fingers to his son’s cheek. It was dry and the skin looked pale. He ran his rough fingers over Josh’s lips. Then he reached over to his daughter Lilly, sound asleep in the same bed. Her skin didn’t feel dry nor did she look pale. Falcon then knew. “When did you have a drink last?” he asked Josh.

“Two hours ago, after dinner. I saved my drink, remember?”

Falcon nodded with disbelief. “Really? When? When was the last time you had a drink?”

“This morning.”

“Don’t make me wake your sister and ask.”

“She’s six. She lies,” Josh said defensively.

“She tattles.” Falcon said. “Now tell me. When?”

Josh took a deep breath.

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