Micro Fiction: To Drink or Not To Drink

Gert knew going into the Mojave Desert was a mistake.

“We’ll be safe from it there,” Carolyn had promised.

Gert panted inside the tent. Carolyn baked in the sun outside, covered in flies. They’d run out of water two days ago and found a ranch yesterday. It had a well and an owner. They found the owner in the well, skin mottled with the telltale green rot – the water was tainted. Carolyn had caved already. Gert stared at the water in the bottle next to his head. Fragments of putrescent flesh floated in its depths. Gert’s stomach cramped.