Disclaimer: I do not own the Indiana Jones series or any of the characters, excluding an additional character I have added named Berry.
Authors Note: I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again because I'm going to be gone for awhile and wont be able to write! I'll try and make it soon, but I can't promise.
Kidnappers always torment their victims on televised shows; physically, mentally, or emotionally. I think they give real hijackers ideas. Arnold was acting like a typical villain – he even had that cheesy 'mwahahahaha' laugh- and it was starting to get on my last nerve. True to his word as day break hit the morning sky he hauled Indiana, Marion, Mutt, and myself off on our long walk as his men and him rode on the backs of camels.
The walk was long and tormenting. Beads of sweat perched on my forehead and various other parts of my body. My feet felt heavy as if I was running in water or had five hundred pound bricks on each foot. Encouraging myself to move faster I took one larger step, almost tripping, but I was able to keep up with the others.
On the bright side, Arnold had deduced that since we were in a never ending desert that none of us had to wear shackles because if we even attempted to run away we'd either be: a) shot b) die of dehydration c) faint and get eaten by various desert creatures. My college professor mostly surprised me; he walked headstrong barley seeming tired. He had Marion by his side holding onto her hand tightly for she looked ready to fall faint at any given moment.
Mutt hunched over as he slid in front of me. The desert sun beamed down upon our skin, I was probably going to get a third degree burn if I didn't already have one. Groaning I stomped my foot rather childishly –a few of Arnold's henchmen laughed at my disdain. Feeling off from dehydration I did something completely unlike my natural character, I yelled at them, "Why don't you shut your pie holes!"
They belted out more vigorous snorting laughs and I scrunched my face in disgust. I know they looked like pigs, but I wasn't aware they sounded like them too. Shaking my fist I yelped, "Hey! Stop laughing you jerks!" However, like before it resulted in harder laughter. One guy almost fell off his camel. I highly doubt my screaming was that hilarious.
Amusedly Mutt stopped short to become level with my walking. He elbowed me lightly and chuckled, although I really did not know what him and the buffoons were laughing at. Was I really that funny? Maybe I should look into being a comedian.
"You're cute dolly," Mutt informed me with a smirk. "But I doubt yelling at them is going to do any good for anyone."
"But they are laughing at me…" In sorrow I stated this, I always hated being laughed at. Girls at school tended to make fun of me for my short hair. And ever since then I haven't taken lightly to being made fun of.
Mutt glared at the men, "Ignore them. We have more important matters to discuss."
"Like how many pieces of wood will be used to make each of our coffins?"
"No…" he paused as he raised a questioning brown brow at me. "More like how we are going to-" Mutt lowered his voice so low I had to strain my ears to hear him, "-escape."
I laughed obnoxiously causing Indiana and Marion to turn and stare at the two of us, "We're we going to hide? Quick sand."
"I never realized you were so sarcastic," thought Mutt aloud as he watched me sway a little from the heat. I pointed at him and opened my mouth about to comment, but in my current state of mind I blacked out completely forget what I was about to say. Closing my mouth I shrugged my shoulders and continued on.
What felt like hours passed, which actually turned out to be five minutes, Mutt and I became quiet for different reasons. If I spoke again I'd probably croak and Mutt was lost in his escapeful thoughts. My mind raced on different ways to steal the water from the bastard riding the camel next to me; it was dangling against the camel's side teasingly.
"Do you have a knife doggy?" slipped from my mouth. I confused Mutt's name with the term of an actual mixed dog. The desert sun really messes with your head.
He stuck his hand into his back pocket, ignoring my nickname for him entirely, and handed his handy-dandy switchblade to me with an arched brow – a habit of his I noticed. Making myself unobvious I slowly stated moving closer to the camel beside me. Flipping the blade open I secretly flicked my wrist across the buckles and the tin flask fell to the floor with a soft thump. Thirstily I bent down and grasped it, shuffling back to Mutt quickly. Opening the top I gulped down the water in satisfaction.
Politely, after I drank half, I handed the rest to Mutt who reacted the same way I had to the drink. Indiana and Marion were too far ahead to share the water with, it would cause too much of a scene to try to give them any. Or at least that is what I told myself to feel better.
"Men we will stop hear and make camp!" Arnold's strong voice boomed over the desert sand. Everyone stopped their camels and discarded them accordingly. "Tomorrow we will continue early. The temple is very, very near."
Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark,
Marion: You can't do this to me, I'm an AMEICAN.