'Where's Daddy?' asked Con.
'Left with Green,' replied Joe. 'He's who Green wanted. Soon as I entered the coordinates, I was surplus.'
'Did Daddy get Sara?'
'Nope.'
'So he left her,' Con said with sad finality.
Rick held Con tight as he looked suspiciously at Joe. 'You've told us so many lies, why should we believe you now?'
'I only lied for your own good,' answered Joe.
'And look where we are,' said Rick.
'We don't have time for this!' said Joe. 'You said we had a chance to survive.' Rick stared at Joe, the distrust clear on his face.
'Look,' said Joe, 'I want to live. Don't you? Tell me where we need to go, and I'll get you there.'
'Rick,' said Con. 'We can't give up, not if we have a chance. We have to go with him!'
'All right,' said Rick. 'We'll go.'
The three of them raced down the beach. As they ran, Rick asked, 'Are the others ready?'
'They're staying here.'
'What?'
'They have their reasons.'
They ran as hard as they could, too hard to continue talk-ing. When they reached the staff tent, they were out of breath.
'Rick,' said Joe between gasps, 'this is your plan. Tell us what we should take.'
'As much clothing as you can,' said Rick. 'We should get cooking pots and utensils. Flashlights. Water containers. Blankets. Food. Con, grab your clothes from your room, then meet us back here.' Con ran off toward her quarters.
'Pandit and James said to help ourselves to their stuff,' said Joe as they pushed clothes into their duffel bags.
'Are you sure they won't come?'
'I tried my best to convince them. They won't budge.'
'And Sara knows that 'returning in seconds' is just bull?'
'I explained it,' said Joe, 'but she wouldn't listen.'
'You told her the opposite just before Greighton left.'
'God help me, I did,' said Joe. 'Yet if I hadn't, Greighton might have balked. Then you and Con would have surely been shot.'
'You're right,' admitted Rick. 'It's Sara's decision. I just wish it was different.'
'Me too,' said Joe. 'Me too.'
Rick began to go through James's things, pulling out shirts, pants, a sweater—anything that would provide warmth. He felt like a thief rifling the dead.
Meanwhile, Con was rapidly sorting through her clothes, trying to imagine what she would need in the times ahead. She tossed aside a delicate pair of dress shoes, a lacy top, and her brassieres. She kept the dresses for the cloth. As she stuffed her things in her bag, she couldn't help but wonder what she would be wearing in a year or two.
