"Seven hours ago, we started this expedition with 200 of the finest men and women I've ever known. We're all that's left."
Rourke paced back and forth along the beach in front of the few that survived the ordeal. Eleanor scanned the faces and recognized some, but many were large men wearing gas masks. Their anonymity almost scared her more than the fact that so many didn't make it out alive.
"From here on in, everyone pulls double duty. Everyone drives, everyone works," Rourke continued. He stopped in front of Milo and shook his head. "Looks like all our chances for survival rest with you, Mr. Thatch. You and that little book."
With a nod, Rourke dismissed everyone. Each person moved quickly to their appointed station, leaving only Milo and Eleanor motionless on the beach. Eleanor rushed over to Milo and grabbed his arm.
"What are we supposed to do?" she whispered. "I don't know how to do…anything!"
"Hey, well neither do I!" he hissed back. "We have to-"
He fell silent as Helga approached. She squinted at them and raised her finger to her chin.
"I would swear that you were here on the beach when the captain gave orders," she mused. "And your papers didn't indicate any auditory issues. Am I wrong?"
"No, ma'am!" Eleanor and Milo chimed in unison.
"Then get your butts to work!" she snarled. She thrust her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the vehicles. Most of the other crew members had already loaded their gear.
Eleanor looked to Milo frantically, but he was already on the move.
"I don't know how to drive," she protested.
"Follow my lead!" replied Milo, looking toward Helga warily.
Milo stopped at a gray truck with no doors. Holding his hand out like a butler, he helped Eleanor up into the passenger seat before running over to the drivers side. Now that they were actually in a vehicle, Eleanor felt better, but she knew they weren't quite in the clear. She looked over her shoulder and spotted Rourke. He was walking along the line of trucks, stopping briefly to speak with each driver.
"This isn't going to work," Eleanor said. "I'm technically breaking orders."
"Trust me! We'll be fine."
Rourke popped his head in the opening at the passenger side. He ignored Eleanor completely to question Milo.
"Are you sure you're checked out on this class of vehicle?"
"Uh…" Milo replied sheepishly. Eleanor remembered that Milo didn't drive at all. They had walked to the National Zoo after work one afternoon because neither of them had a car. It had been such a beautiful afternoon, too. She hardly knew Milo back then…her mind was quickly pulled back to the present as Rourke slapped a firm hand against the frame of the vehicle.
"Can you drive a truck?" Rourke snapped.
"Of course I can drive a truck!" Milo shrugged confidently. "I mean sure."
He grabbed the steering wheel and rotated it a few times while motioning to the dashboard.
"You got your steering, your gas, your break, and, of course, this metal…uh, looking…thing?" Milo grabbed at a lever, unsure what to do with it. He looked up at Eleanor, but she knew nothing about driving. "Ok, so it was a bumper car at Coney Island, but it's the same basic principle!"
Rourke smiled grimly and started to walk away.
"Sure, Thatch. Don't go anywhere."
As soon as Rourke was out of sight, Eleanor slumped down in the seat.
"That was close, Milo."
"I hate to say it, but I don't think they'll be paying us much attention on this leg of the trip," Milo assured her. "If we keep our heads down and avoid Ms. Sinclair, I think we'll be fine."
Eleanor looked away and nodded. Just that morning, she had hugged her grandfather goodbye and set off on her grand adventure. How had things gone so terribly wrong? Now she was at the mercy of the crew and seemed to be of no use to anyone.
Vinny, the Italian man from the bridge, waved at Milo from the front of the truck.
"Put it in neutral," he called. "We're gonna tow you."
"Great…" Milo grumbled. "I don't even know how to do that!"
Eleanor examined the levers and pushed one.
"Thanks!" Vinny called. He returned to his truck and started it. Milo and Eleanor were dragged along in their much smaller truck. He beamed at her and gently slugged her arm.
Eleanor smiled weakly back and turned once again to look out the door opening. Maybe she wasn't complete useless after all.