WARNING: This chapter contains . . . [Mild Language / Mild Suggestive Dialogue / Violence]
Edit Update: 1/1/2016
Did some majorly minor editing.
"What do you mean by, there aren't any cars here?!" I had to get out of Egypt, and fast! If Bakura somehow found a way out of the fanfic, I'd be a sitting duck. A sitting dead duck!
"Just as I said." the merchant said a bit too cheerily for my taste, "there are no cars here."
"Then how do you people get around?"
"We ride on that." He answered, pointing at a row of camels that were leisurely moving their jaws in a circular motion, ready to shoot out their saliva at anyone who came within spitting distance. They wouldn't have been my first choice, but I was desperate.
"I'll take one." I said before I began limping over to them.
Why was I limping, you ask? 'Cause Marik's underground home was a freakin' maze. A freakin' maze full of booby traps! Who the heck puts shooting poison darts and giant boulders that try to roll you over in their own house?! Well, technically it was a tomb, but still! But the traps weren't nearly as bad as Marik's room, which was filled with his secret yaoi collection. I'm going to have nightmares for weeks! And Bakura's room wasn't much better. His computer had a very risqué thiefshipping desktop and in the next room I found a table that had twenty one knives on it. Knives that he would probably use on me if I didn't get the heck outta here!
"Easy, boy. Or girl." I said in a quiet voice as I approached one of the camels. "I'm just gonna get on your back and-" And then the sucker spit in my eye. Lovely.
I turned around and went back to the marketplace, where I bought goggles and one of those head scarf things that made me feel like I was in Lawrence of Arabia, and then I went back and clumsily got on. Well, the first few times I ended up falling off but eventually I did it and soon I was riding through the desert, hoping that I was going in the right direction. And as my new furry friend walked at a slow pace, I wondered what Marik and Bakura were up to.
"Nothing good, I bet."
Bakura woke up when he let loose a massive sneeze. It didn't surprise him. It had rained for hours. Thankfully the sun now shone brightly above them and had, for the most part, dried them off. But before that - right after it had stopped raining cats and kuribohs - Bakura had grabbed an empty bucket, took off his jacket, and wrung the water out of it and into said bucket, saying that they needed to save whatever water they could get, in case they ended up stranded for a long length of time. Marik had quickly followed suit and pulled his crop-top over his head. Or at least, he had tried to before it got stuck midway. At one point he went into a fit and vigorously fought against the light purple fabric, almost falling out of the rowboat in the process. Of course Bakura had found the whole thing hilarious, but he stopped laughing when the Egyptian finally succeeded in his quest of becoming topless and watched him wring the shirt, admiring the tattoo that covered the boy's back. He always found it quite fascinating. So much detail and not a single sloppy line in sight. It was a shame that Marik had to go through so much pain to get it; both physically and mentally.
Some time after that, Bakura had dozed off. He had remained awake when Marik slept against him, not wanting to miss the moment, but after the stuck shirt fiasco he had felt his eyelids grow heavy right before conking out. Now he was up again, but what Bakura saw made him wish that he had stayed asleep.
"Marik." He tried to keep his voice even, though it was proving difficult. "Where is the food?"
Every single one of the crates that Bakura had stolen from the ship were now empty.
"Being evil is very hungry work." Marik explained as he and Artax shared the last apple. "And when we need more, all we will have to do is make out with each other and Sponsors will send us food and-"
"This isn't the bloody Hunger Games, Marik!" Bakura shouted before he sat down with a groan. "We're going to die out here."
"Oh, don't be such a Grumpy Cat." Marik said, waving a dismissive hand at Bakura's glowering face. "I am much too young and sexy to die. You, maybe not so much. But I have enough sexiness for the both of us, so you will probably be okay."
Bakura decided to ignore the unintentional insult. "We at least still have water, right?"
"Yeeeeaaaah, about that."
"Marik."
"I have to keep my sexiness at maximum level at all times to increase our chances of survival. So of course I had to take a shower." Marik reached down and picked up a shampoo bottle. "And I used L'Oreal, because I'm worth it."
"Wait," Bakura leaned forward. "When you took this shower . . . you still had your pants on, right?"
"Of course not!" Marik said as he put the bottle back. "How else would I have been able to scrub up where the sun doesn't shine?"
Marik had taken a shower, completely naked, right in front of him, and he had missed it!
"Now that you mention it, Marik, I think I could use a shower." Bakura said a bit too hastily. "Maybe we should take one together and-"
"But we are out of water."
"Oh." That made him remember their current situation. He placed his chin on top of his intertwined fingers and tried to think of a way out of this mess before glancing at Artax. "I guess we could always eat the horse."
Marik gasped and hugged the stallion. "Over my dead body!"
"You will be dead if we don't eat him."
"Don't worry, Artax. I swear on my butt that I won't let anything bad happen to you."
"Don't you mean you swear on your life?"
"You think my life is worth more than my butt? You've clearly not seen my butt recently, Bakura."
"No, I haven't, actually." Bakura grinned. "Care to refresh my memory?"
"Can't we just catch some fish or something?" Marik, who wasn't listening - as usual - asked as he leaned over the side, causing the rowboat to nearly flip over.
"What would we even catch them with?"
Right after asking this, a half dead seagull sluggishly made his way towards them before landing on the bowsprit. More like collapsed on the bowsprit, his body laying flat on the thin piece of wood with his wings dangling over the sides. Bakura had to act fast. If he didn't, Marik would probably name the bird and protect him like he did with Artax. Their survival depended on turning this dying seagull into a rotisserie chicken. Without hesitation, Bakura pulled out his knife and got ready to strike. But before he could, a shark lifted himself up out of the ocean and bit off the bowsprit, taking the seagull along with it. This didn't bother Bakura, who brought his blade down on the shark's head and penetrated the brain, killing him instantly.
As the shark floated in the water like a dead goldfish, Bakura crossed his arms over his chest, which was swelling up with pride. "Dinner."
Marik looked at the shark and then up at his companion. "How are you going to get it in the boat?"
He hadn't thought of that. "Um . . ."
"How are we even going to cook it?"
He hadn't thought of that either. "Um . . ."
Marik sat down on the floor of the rowboat. "People say you're the smart one. Ha!"
Not long after that, Bakura found some rope and tied it around the shark's tail before pulling the carcass closer to the boat. When it was within reach, he cut off medium-sized portions and threw the hunks of pinkish red flesh into the empty crates, letting them marinate in the blood that covered them. Bakura surveyed his handiwork and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, unintentionally painting it red with the shark's blood in the process. One problem solved. As for the other one . . .
Bakura grabbed one of the pieces of meat, leaned over the side of the boat, and washed it with the salt water before trying to hand it to Marik. "Here."
"You expect me to eat that?"
"Yes I do, Marik. Now eat it."
Marik shut his mouth tight and looked away.
"Stop acting like a child."
"Never!" Marik shouted before once again clamping his lips together.
"Fine. If you are going to act like one, then I will treat you like one." Bakura said before grabbing Marik's nose, blocking off the Egyptian's air supply, and he watched as Marik's tanned face began to turn red and then purple before finally giving in and exhaled, giving Bakura the opportunity he needed to shove the meat into his mouth.
Marik slowly chewed it. "It tastes like rubber."
"Quit your whining and eat it." Bakura said as he grabbed a piece for himself and bit off a large chunk of it, not bothering to wash it off and letting the blood stream down his chin. It wasn't the best meat he ever had, but it was edible.
As he ate, Bakura looked at the horse and placed a piece in front of him. He didn't really care whether the horse died or not but Marik did, and Bakura wasn't too fond of the idea of listening to him cry for hours on end. Artax sniffed at it and snorted, but he must have realized that it was his only food source because he reluctantly snatched it up in his teeth. Marik and Artax both looked miserable, but Bakura had no sympathy for them. They had to do what was necessary to stay alive until they found dry land.
He stared out at the ocean and furrowed his brow. They had food now, but they could have made do without it for about a month. It was water that he was concerned about. He turned on the motor and the rowboat sped off as he tried not to think about what would happen if they didn't get to fresh water in time.