𝗠𝘆 𝗘𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗲 ⇉ 𝗝𝗝 𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗸

𝘢 𝘨 𝘢 𝘱 𝘦 𝘯 𝘵 𝘢

THE DESERT hills of Morocco blur into a hazy tapestry of ochre and sand as Ariella stares out the window, lost in thought.

JJ's head rests heavily on her shoulder, a comforting weight that grounded her even as her mind wandered.

Every so often, he would press a gentle kiss to her shoulder, a silent reassurance.

But even those sweet gestures couldn't fully pull her back from the swirling vortex of her memories.

He knew she was too far into her head.

He knew who occupied her thoughts.

Rafe.

The name echoes in the hollow chambers of her heart.

Was he okay?

Had he somehow managed to escape the chaos they had left behind?

The uncertainty gnaws at her, a persistent ache that no amount of desert air could soothe.

"All right, John B, this is the turnoff here." Pope announces, breaking the tense silence within the jeep.

He gestures towards their right as they ascend the winding desert road.

The landscape was unforgiving, a relentless expanse of sand and rock.

If not for the goggles shielding their eyes and the cloth masking their noses, the grit would have been unbearable, a constant assault on their senses.

"Looks like there should be a well or something up that road. We can stop for water and then head on to Agapenta."

John B expertly maneuvers the jeep, its tires struggling against the loose terrain, until they reach the ancient stone well.

It stood like a sentinel against the vast emptiness, a testament to the enduring need for water in this desolate land.

JJ, ever the restless spirit, was the first to hop out of the jeep, his boots crunching on the sandy ground.

Ariella, still grappling with her inner turmoil, slowly stood and leans forward, extending her hands towards JJ.

He understood her unspoken need, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and effortlessly lifting her down.

Once her feet touched the ground, she intertwined their fingers, seeking solace in his touch as they joined the other Pogues on the opposite side of the jeep.

"Pope, I really hope you're right about this well." John B mutters, his voice laced with a weariness that mirrors Ariella's own.

"No, it's good. It was on the map." Pope replies, his tone firm with conviction, though Ariella couldn't help but wonder if even maps could be trusted in this unpredictable world.

Ariella's eyes roam restlessly, scanning the desolate landscape.

They were in what felt like the middle of nowhere, an endless expanse of desert, sand, and rolling hills.

That's why, when her gaze snags on a white sandy duffel bag a few feet from the well, her senses sharpened instantly.

They weren't alone; they couldn't be.

The isolation was broken, tainted by the unknown presence.

"JJ." Ariella whispers, her voice barely audible above the gentle breeze.

With a subtle nod, she directs his attention toward the duffel bag.

JJ, always attuned to her instincts, carefully led her toward the suspicious item.