Billy wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been walking. After escaping jail and going on the run, Billy found himself sunburnt and blistered in the desert. He was sure this was it, he’d die out here before he could come across another person that wanted to kill him as much as nature did.

Walking for hours, Billy could have sworn he had begun hallucinating a person approaching him. He didn’t get so much as a word out before he proceeded to collapse into the sand, passing out just as the figure loomed over him.

Hours passed, maybe. Billy flinched awake, something damp touching his skin. His eyes fluttered open to see a ceiling above him. He groaned, squinting in the light. “Where—?” His voice strained, glancing around.

The room was small, a candle lit on a tiny wooden table next to the bed Billy laid upon. There was a stranger sitting in a chair next to the bed, rehydrating and hot his dry skin with a cold, wet towel.