Sandy
Nervously, she looked at her watch again. The sun was setting, and she was growing more frustrated by the minute. "Where could he BE?" she whispered.
"There's still a bit of time," Bauer reassured her, as he scanned the horizon with his binoculars. "Be patient."
"But it's been twenty-three hours now," Sandy pointed out to him. "That leaves him just one hour to get to us, or get a message to us." She looked out in the direction of the setting sun – the direction they would see him approach from, if he were returning. Tears began to form, which she blamed on the brightness irritating her eyes. "He's not coming back," she muttered.
"You don't know that," Score said, trying to reassure her friend. Inwardly, though, she harboured her own doubts about his fate.
Sandy looked at her friend, and shook her head sadly. "No," she sighed, "He's not coming back. The last family I had, and the MME has taken that away from me."
"Maybe not," Norton said to her, pointing towards the sun. "Movement ahead."
Sandy looked up hopefully. "Uncle Kyle...?" she asked tentatively.
Bauer lifted his binoculars to his eyes, and let the electronic device magnify the image. "Cyberoids!" he shouted, "two flyers, headed this way – three kilometres distant and closing."
"That's our cue to make tracks," Score said. "We can't fight them by ourselves."
"NO!" Sandy shouted, "we HAVE to give Uncle Kyle more time!"
"Sandy," Bauer said to her softly, "If your uncle's plan had worked, they wouldn't be moving at all. We have to assume that he didn't succeed."
"NO!" she repeated. "He just needs more time! He just... needs..." She looked at her three friends, the same expression on each of their faces. She dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, Uncle Kyle..." she cried mournfully. "I should have gone with you – I could have helped."
Score grabbed her arm and lifted her to her feet. "Come ON, Sandy!" she said, "They'll be here in minutes, and we don't want to be here when they arrive."
Norton jumped into the driver's seat of the hover-jeep, starting the engine with a flick of his hand. Score tossed Sandy into the passenger's seat, then ran for the tank.
As the two vehicles sped away from the oncoming death-machines, Sandy could not help but look back. Pulling the seashell he had given her from her pocket, she gripped it tightly and pulled her fist close to her chest. "Goodbye, Unca Kyle," she whispered, admitting to herself that he would not be returning. "I wish you had been successful, and put a quick end to this war. Now, I guess, we'll have to do it the hard way."
Side by side, the two vehicles sped off towards the remains of the cities, anticipating another mission when they returned...