George glanced up at the cabin high above them, in darkness now, the sound of someone quietly snoring just audible above the more general noise of the jungle, then he said, “I thought you handled that really well earlier—he was obviously trying to push your buttons.”

Alice nodded in agreement, but Tom said, “It’s pretty stupid, really. But at least we only have to put up with it for one more day.”

“When will you tell them?”

“That we’re going?” She nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon, I guess, before it gets dark. We’ll want everything ready so we can head out first thing the next morning.”

She walked over and picked up a branch, placing it on the fire, saying, “I wonder how he’ll take that.”

Tom thought about it, how more than half of the survivors were now in the escape party, how he’d accepted every addition, pretending it had nothing to do with him. He realized now that there was only one way to deal with the inevitable disagreement the following afternoon.

“Look, if they all want to come, there’s nothing stopping them. But there’s nothing stopping us from leaving, either. They can argue all day, but we’re going, so it’s a simple choice: come with us, or stay behind and wait to be rescued.”

He noticed that Alice looked relieved by that, and he felt like telling her again that it wasn’t up to him, that he wasn’t leading the escape party, but she surprised him by saying, “I hope they decide to come. I couldn’t face Chris’s parents if…” She brushed her hair back with both hands, something he’d seen her do often before, but she must have forgotten that her hair was short now and there was nothing to sweep back. “But I know I couldn’t sit here and wait. I keep thinking about my parents and my little brother, what they must be going through.”

“Me too,” said George. He looked at her in amazement then. “I don’t know why it never occurred to me before. You’re Harry Dysart’s sister! He plays baseball with my brother.”

She smiled at the mention of her brother’s name, an affection that left Tom feeling hollow.

“I know. Dylan’s been to our house a few times. He’s a cute kid.”

“In small doses! But yeah, he’s okay, I guess.” He looked down at the fire for a moment or two, then back up at Tom. “Do you have any brothers or sisters, Tom?”

Tom noticed Alice’s face drop, tinged with embarrassment, but Tom only shook his head. “No, I’m an only child, and my parents died when I was nine, so…”

“Oh, sorry.”