All Out Of Hope

A twitter friend gave me an opening line and I wanted to see where I could take it. Not as good as I wanted, but I don't think it's too bad in 15 minutes. Thank you, Brian.

ALL OUT OF HOPE

He had two choices, drink the last swallow of water in the canteen and extinguish the fire in his throat or keep trudging through the sand, praying that someone would come along and save him. The odds were against that, but as long as he had those few drops left he had hope. Once they were gone. . .

Brian Smith thought back to the beginning of the day as he struggled to keep placing one foot in front of the other. It should have been simple. Pick up the package, deliver it, get the cash. How the hell was he supposed to know the guy was a cop? And where had Javez gotten the gun? Three minutes. That's all it took, and now his life was over.

Sinking to his knees in the sand Brian held the canteen close to his heart. Hope? For him there was no hope. If the drug lords didn't get him, the cops would. Kenny Rogers had said it best. You got to know when to hold them, and know when to fold them. Well, it was time to fold them.

Unscrewing the top on the canteen Brian poured the water into the sand watching as the last few drops slowed, hanging onto the edge of the canteen mouth, like he had been hanging on to that elusive hope. Laughing he shook the canteen, forcing the last few drops to fall away. Lying down in the sand he spread out his arms, staring at the sky for a moment before closing his eyes. God was all out of miracles and he was all out of hope.