I lay on my belly and tried to get my mouth close to the tiny space. I didn’t get much air, but it was something. Then I signaled her to go again. I let her go twice because I had the gun. After that, I gave Gunther his turn.

We went on like this for minutes, but it was a losing battle. Each thin sip of air we were able to suck in was no match for the glacier of lethal gas that was burying us, although we couldn’t identify it with any of our senses, but only by our growing delirium and utter debilitation.

Finally, while Gunther was at the airhole and I realized that in another ten minutes we would be unable to move and therefore would die, I said to Gail, “So . . . I have a plan.”

“Well, yes, dammit, Ray,” rasped Gail. “I’ve been waiting.”

I said, “One or two more shots from this gun and maybe I can force a hole big enough to put its barrel through.”

Gail had to take another ration of thin air. When she was done, I took my turn, then let Gunther go again, as I told her, wheezing, “You two will get to the back of the truck. Then I’ll try to . . . angle the gun to shoot the gas tanks at the back of the cab. If I’m lucky . . . they might explode . . . and open a way for us to get out.”

Gail’s breathing was that of an aged man on his deathbed. It was a horrible sound to come from someone so young. “Is there more to the plan?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “No. Did you hear that, Gunther?”

Gunther took his mouth away from the hole and nodded yes.

I coughed again. “All right, so that’s my plan.”

Gail said, “And you, Ray, what’ll happen to you?”

I coughed and smiled. “That’s part of God’s plan.”

Gail made what little protesting noise she could make, but I ignored her. “Both of you, take your last air and go to the back of the truck, in case I explode the tanks. Gunther, you first.”

I was feeling dizzy, and I was afraid I might pass out before I could try my pathetic ruse. I would try to make it work, but the best I could likely hope for was that Gail would drift off into a sleep of death at the back of the truck, with the belief in her brain, as it shut down, that any minute I would save her. It would be much like Linney’s death, but at least Gail was not as alone, and would slip under with a little more hope. That was probably the best I could do for her now.