"Hope is both the earliest and the most indispensable virtue inherent in the state of being alive. If life is to be sustained hope must remain, even where confidence is wounded, trust impaired." - Erik Erikson
Click-whir. Click. "- Is it you?"
John tries to imagine a scenario where he'd ask Jesse Flores to help anyone – anyone at all - and he really can't. He wants to scream that back into history, but that's not going to happen.
Not yet.
He reminds himself that there are nine tapes left: nine tapes his mother had to be alive to record. He doesn't let himself wonder why there aren't more.
The temptation to skip to the end hits hard and he has '11/11' in his hand before he fights the urge down – again - and slips the tape back into the pile.
He has to do this properly because if Connors know anything, they know context is everything.
Derek leans in through the doorway, coughs and says, "They're ready."
He's smiling and that doesn't happen so often that John is immune. He grins and stands; today down below gets heat and light.
Maybe they even get a little hope. Part of him wonders if that's a mistake, if hope could break them where the darkness and the cold couldn't. It's a small part and he stamps down hard on it until it's a shadow blending with all the other second-guesses he's put away.
Hey, at least he's finally in a place where repression is a valued life skill.
Derek doesn't say anything as they walk through the tunnels, but John's okay with that. It's an easy quiet and it's good to have it back. He just follows in his uncle's wake and nods and smiles encouragingly to the people they pass; it's important they remember him now.
Most of them smile but one man looks away with a tight frown. Lee: John recognizes him from Derek's Recon team. The man had been about to shoot him, so it left kind of an impression.
Now he looks a little like he wants to shoot John again, but there's no time to worry about it because the crowd has taken him on and into the converted boiler room.
The set-up isn't pretty, it's more like something out of Geiger than a power plant, but he can see the Techs have finished the job. He wanders around kicking the tires, but it's mostly for show. The unit Cameron has donated is clean (although John's pretty sure that if there is a future where he has kids, it's probably not going to be this one) and accessible and it only took a couple of weeks because the stockpile was good, but his mother hadn't anticipated his need to jury-rig a nuclear generator.
"Okay," he says and then he nods to the lead Tech. "Let there be light."
Bell, an older man with fine blonde hair and a near-sighted squint, jumps a little and then nods rapidly; he flips the switch.
And there is light.
It's not much, but it's better than glowsticks; John closes his eyes and lets them adjust. When he opens them there's a man coming in fast. He jerks back but it's too late; he's expecting a punch and instead it's a hug so tight his ribs creak.
The man is mumbling his thanks over and over; John pats his shoulder awkwardly and looks around for help. Derek's grin widens, but he takes pity and says, "He gets it, you're welcome", as he pulls the man away and puts himself between John and the crowd.
John takes a nervous step back as Derek's pushed against him, but then Kyle's there too. "Hey, back it up." There's a c-click John recognizes and the crowd settles back and turns away; no one wants to get light and get shot on the same day.
The first man lingers, looking embarrassed. Derek raises a hand to gently push him away, but John remembers now. He pushes himself between Derek and Kyle: John Connor doesn't get to hide behind anyone, even when he wants to. Especially when he wants to.
He tries a grin, "It's Henry, right?"
"Right," Henry nods slowly and the smiles. "You asked if I was a teacher."
"What did you teach?"
"High-school Math. And I thought there wasn't a lot of work for teachers then."
As a joke it falls a little flat but John laughs anyway. "I guess. Maybe you can get a job here."
He doesn't mean it, he's just striking out for anything at all to say, but Henry's expression becomes speculative, almost cautiously hopeful. "You think so?" he asks more intently than John's happy with, "You think it's worth it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I do," John nods as certainly as he can, because he's made a mistake, the least he can do is not make it worse. He ignores the identical looks of disbelief the Reese brothers are giving him.
-o-
Later, when Henry has gone to organize his first class and Kyle has remembered he's angry and left - when it's just John and his uncle and the dimly flickering lights of the generator - John asks, "Do you trust me now?"
Derek's eyes narrow and the good humor fades away. "Why?"
John has considered his approach carefully – how to sell it, how to reason, how to cajole, threaten or bribe. In his head, none of those have ended well, so he figures he'll try something radical: the truth. "I need to go to Century. There's someone in there we have to get out."
"There's a thousand people in there we have to get out," Derek replies mildly. Honestly that's better than John had hoped for.
John ducks his head. "I know. But this one is …"
"Important?" Derek's tone is ironic now and the eyebrow has lifted.
John counts to three and says, "Her name is Savannah Weaver, and she's got information we need. Information that will help us fight, help us win."
"No way Perry is going for this," Derek shakes his head, but at least he looks interested now, he isn't just humoring the Boy Wonder.
John holds his gaze and doesn't blink. "I'm not asking Perry if he trusts me, I'm asking if you do."
"I don't trust you. I don't think you're with the machines, but I don't think you're being straight with us. If it was just me, maybe, but these people don't deserve a gamble on their lives."
It's as blunt as Derek ever is and honestly, John was expecting it, but that doesn't make it any easier. "Fine."
"Connor – " Derek reaches out a hand.
John ducks away from it and heads for the door. "I get it. I understand. I really do."
He really does. Doesn't make it hurt any less.
It was never Derek Reese and John Connor anyway.
He needs a plan.
He really needs to stop trying to tell the truth.
-o-
It takes a couple of weeks for Derek to stop looking at him like he's about to stage a one-man attack on Century, a little longer for John to forgive him for not being who he was never meant to be.
Perry gives John his pick of duty and suggests heavily he should stay with the Techs, but doesn't stop him from joining Derek's Recon team.
There are seven of them now, picking through the remains of the city.
John's partnered with Allison and he's pretty sure Derek's left standing orders that she's not to let him out of her sight, because she never does. She doesn't talk much either, nothing more than she has to. He doesn't mind, maybe it's easier that way.
They lie side by side on the crest of some torn up masonry that he thinks used to be the freeway, waiting to get the signal from Derek's position. His attention wanders over the skyline until Allison's elbow jabs him in the ribs. He starts and then looks around; she nods down into to the pass they're working their way around.
There are two figures making their way across the open ground. Dangerous, but from the state of them they can't manage the steep piles of rubble and bone.
It's a younger man, about Kyle's age John guesses, and an older woman, leaning on each other step by step.
The dog lying at Allison's other side watches closely, but it doesn't look like it's about to attack. They're human.
John looks up at Lee's position and sees the sniper lining his sights.
He hisses almost sub-vocally. "What's he doing?"
"Making sure," replies Allison just as quietly.
"But they aren't metal."
"Doesn't mean they're not dangerous. Could be sick. Jackals send sick people ahead, a bunker takes them in and a week later there's no one who can fight back. Or they could be goats. Could have tracers." Allison shrugs and minutely adjusts her aim. "Could be a lot of things."
The two figures pass Derek at point and only then, when they're surrounded, does Derek call out from behind his cover, "Dangerous place to take a walk."
Both figures stagger to a stop and try and turn. The man calls out, "Don't shoot! Please, don't shoot!"
Kyle's voice echoes down to them, "Which camp are you out of?"
"Crystal Peak, the one-forty under Jackson. They took us out a week ago. Please. Please."
Beside John, Allison's eyes are wide with shock.
"Crystal Peak?" John asks.
Her eyes narrow again. "Nevada, you should know it."
He's long past worrying if people are suspicious, "I guess I never found them, what was it?"
"Our strongest bunker. It was a real bunker; it had defenses. Trained soldiers. The metal could never get in."
"Why didn't they nuke it?"
Allison's pause is long and more complicated than John can decipher, she finally says, "We don't know."
Derek's voice is dull when he says almost perfunctorily, "Survivors?"
"Two," says the woman, speaking at last. "Two," she says again, like she can't believe it.
"Jackson doesn't command Crystal Peak," says Kyle's voice from somewhere to John's right.
The younger man nods quickly and holds up a hand again. "He does. He did. Bakov died three months ago."
"How?"
The woman's voice is carefully without inflection. "She was cleaning her gun."
Allison sighs softly and John guesses that means something more. "What?"
"You heard; she was cleaning her gun."
John gets it. "Right. Accidents happen."
Lee's voice calls down from far above them all. "How did you get out?"
"I don't know. We were dead. We should have been dead." The man shakes his head and releases his hold on the woman, stepping away and sitting on a chunk of concrete. John can make out faded graffiti tags, claiming territory that doesn't exist.
Derek stands, yards away from where John had thought he was. "You know we can't take you."
Neither of the figures below seems surprised. The man sags but the woman only nods. "We're not asking you to. We just – we just."
John looks to Allison again for understanding. "What? Why?"
"Too dangerous. If the machines are tracking them, they'll lead them right to us."
"You took me in."
Allison's gaze flickers away. "That was Derek's call. He told Perry anyone using you had to be desperate."
John smiles and Derek is forgiven. "Yeah, sounds about right."
When John looks back, the two are walking again. He'd thought it was a test, or maybe there was somewhere else they could go, but Derek's sending these people to their deaths.
He scrambles up to his feet so Derek can see him, "We can't leave them out here."
Allison reaches for his arm but he pulls away and lets himself slide down the debris; he tries not to think about the dry, cracking sounds it makes under him.
He lands about twenty feet from the two. They don't look sick, just exhausted. They stop and he edges closer. "Crystal Peak. What happened, how did the machines get in?"
The woman shakes her head; she's too tired to waste words. "I don't know."
"Did someone let them in?" he presses.
The younger man isn't so tired; his free hand curls into a fist. "Are you crazy?"
John rubs a hand over his face and tries, "Did anyone go missing just before you were attacked? Come back a few days later?"
The woman lays a hand on the man's arm, keeping him with her. "We lost all but one of a Recon team. Reynolds made it back, he was okay."
John closes his eyes, opens them and sees it playing out in front of his eyes. "Didn't seem like himself, right? Little quiet, maybe? Kept away from the dogs."
"Dogs?" The man looks puzzled and John understands. The T-600 sent against the Kansas camp had been a test run; no one else had defenses.
John breathes out; they're all out of time.
Derek's by his side now, pushing him back and John lets him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He's staring at Derek, but he's not seeing him; he's seeing the game shifting and changing and the world tilts.
"Eight-hundreds. How do they have eight-hundreds?"
Derek lets him go and John scrambles back up towards Allison; he has to do this now. He'll never have the courage to do it again.
She stands, up in his face and angry. "What are you-?"
He grips her shoulders and pulls her close enough he can feel her breath on his skin. "Listen. Listen to me," he hisses.
She blinks and stops speaking.
"The machine that looked like you? That hasn't happened yet, but it's going to and, Allison if she gets to you, she'll kill you. She'll replace you. She'll become you. So you have to stay in the camp, you understand me?"
Her mouth moves and finally she nods. "Okay."
By then Derek is at his side and hauling him around. "Talk," he commands.
John talks. Well, maybe he babbles a little. "The machines have eight-hundreds now, at least. Maybe even trip-eights, I don't know. They look like us. You knew I wasn't a machine after a second, right? These ones, only the dogs know."
"The radiation-"
"They run cold, just like Cameron. They're faster, they're tougher and their analytics are off the charts. What was in Crystal Peak they needed so bad they couldn't nuke it?"
Derek looks down and John steps closer; Derek pushes him back. "Back in position, now."
John opens his mouth but Allison's hand on his arm closes it. He falls back with her while Derek slides down.
"How do you know what you know? Who are you?"
Her voice is gentle and that's incongruous enough to release some of the tension stringing him together. "People keep asking me that."
"So tell them. Tell me."
"It's not that easy. God," he laughs and then stops before he scares anyone. "I wish it was that easy."
Allison lets him go and steps away; John guesses they're back to silence. They watch the refugees until they're lost to the wasteland, and then Derek pulls them back.
-o-
He's expecting to spend the hours until the next patrol alone in the workshop; the Techs leave him things to take apart or put together, and it's relaxing like it's normal.
Instead, Allison appears with two cans of what turns out to be beans and grapefruit. She perches on his workbench, pulls out a knife, spears a piece of fruit and says, "You need to trust someone."
John jabs a relatively clean screwdriver into the can. "I do. I did."
Allison looks over at the red-stained bench with Cameron's skeleton lying under some rags. "The machine."
"It's not about trust, it's about … it's about the future. And the past. And the whole freaking world. It's about the ones who can't be replaced."
She's watching him with as much confusion as Cameron ever displayed. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to go to Century Work Camp. I'm going to get someone out and I'm going to take her to … her mother. I'm going to get information we need, and then I'm going to take out the machines."
"That's all?" Allison's eyes shine. She has a trail of juice on her chin and she wipes it away with the back of her hand.
He laughs and ducks his head. "The days are shorter now, so …"
"Yeah, I can see you'd want to go slow."
John pushes the fruit can away and scoops some beans into his hand. "You'll stay off Recon, right?"
She shrugs and maybe that's the best he's going to get; he changes the subject. "You know what was in Crystal Peak?"
"It was Research and Development, something like that. No one ever went in or out. Perry might know."
He doubts it, but he says, "Thanks."
She drinks some more juice. "For what?"
"Talking to me." He smiles again; it's getting easier. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be talking to me."
"What you did for down below, that means a lot."
"Not to Derek."
Allison's half-smile says everything she doesn't. "You're talking about going into Century. People don't come out of there. Ever. Not even the bodies."
Well that's good news. John turns slightly and then looks back. "I'm coming out."
"Lee would go with you. His daughter had the cough, the medicine you brought back saved her life."
John cants his head and tries to reconcile the glares Lee's been giving him with a grateful father, it's really not working. "He never said. I was pretty sure he hated me."
"He's shy." Allison grins this time and it's almost like before.
"Seriously? He was staring so hard I thought he was looking for the best place to put a bullet."
Her hand reaches over to gently cuff him on the head; he freezes at the touch and hopes she doesn't notice.
Her hand falls back. "I'll go with you."
"No" He shakes his head. "No way."
"Why?"
"I can't. I don't know if you'd make it out."
She studies him, curious rather than angry. "You know Lee or Derek would?"
John shakes his head. "No. I know I do. I know one other person does, but I don't know how to ask him."
"Who is it?"
"How much of this is getting back to Derek?"
Allison purses her lips and John thinks he's made her mad again, but her expression turns into something like a pout and that expression on Cameron's face is just unnerving. "You don't trust me now?"
He holds up his hands. "Kyle. I know me and Kyle would make it out."
"How do you know?"
He has to trust someone, he needs to trust someone and it's so easy to see Cameron instead of Allison. "Because we already did. In the future, we're going to discover a way to travel in time."
Allison snorts and John shrugs. "I know, right? We have cyborgs but time travel just seems a little too sci-fi. It's true, though. And you think I'm crazy."
"Everyone's crazy." She doesn't look like she believes him, but she doesn't look like truth is a deal-breaker either. It's a start.
John begins cutting into the empty cans. "You think Kyle would go with me?"
"Yeah, I do." She watches his hands; he watches her.
"He leaves every room I walk into and if you say he's shy, I'm going to call you a liar."
"He's not shy, he's angry. He'll get over it. But if he gets killed, you could take out every machine on Earth and Derek'd still shoot you in the head."
She looks from his hands to his face and searches his expression for something; he has no idea what to give her.
After a few seconds she nods and her tone is almost business-like when she says, "Kyle pulled tunnel patrol, east section. We work it in shifts; one of us and a dog.
"And don't thank me, I don't want thanks for getting you both killed."
-o-
Kyle says yes before John has even opened his mouth.
"Alli told you?" he manages after a moment.
"She said you needed me for something," Kyle shrugs. "Like I'm going to say no. I haven't forgotten that." He nods to John's shoulder and there's a faint suggestion of even if you did.
"I need to get someone out of Century."
Kyle blinks and John smiles thinly. "Still saying yes?"
"Well, I was hoping for a supply run with beer and antibiotics, but okay." Kyle grins and claps him on the shoulder – the other shoulder. "When?"
John can never think of Kyle as his father and it's just possible that the fact he feels older than the man has something to do with it. "Soon. It has to be soon."
-o-
Soon, before he thinks about what he's planning and loses his nerve.
As far as he can tell, there are two ways into Century: sneaking in or being taken in. Sneaking in, there's a high chance they'll be discovered; they'll be killed for trying it.
If they're taken in, there's still a chance they'll be killed, but there's also a chance they won't be. It's not odds he'd bet on if he had a choice, but he doesn't. Never did.
He briefly considers what Sarah Connor would do, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have that much C-4. She did leave them weapons; they could stage an attack. But a lot of people would die and he doesn't love his chances of talking Perry into it.
And the future never said anything about John Connor, Kyle Reese and a small army breaking out of Century.
Kyle's presence helps; John's focus now is making sure the man gets out alive, and it helps to keep the white noise of terror under control. He wonders if that's how his mother did it; if all of her fear was channeled directly into protecting him.
If it works, he'll take it.
After a week he has a strategy, but no tactics and no time. They have to go and they have to go now, before he thinks of better reasons not to.
Derek relaxes enough to let Kyle and John out on close patrol together; he even has a grin for John when they leave.
John doesn't think Derek's going to forgive him for this, even if they do make it back alive.
They walk all night and hide in the semi-collapsed cellar of a building as the first red fingers of dawn begin to claw over the rubble.
Kyle fishes out his water bottle and holds it towards John; John drinks, he barely even notices the metallic taste anymore.
He coughs up dust and Kyle takes the water back. "So what's the plan?"
"The machines usually leave small groups alone, right? Two of us wouldn't normally be on their radar unless we made a noise."
"Usually, but not always." Kyle looks wary and John can see the family resemblance. "You think we can sneak by them?"
John shrugs and tries not to look as sick as he feels when he asks, "So those two from patrol, that guy and the woman, they'd be okay, right?"
Kyle nods. "Derek told them to head into the sector where you found the stash; it'll be a while before it's swept again."
"That's on the way, maybe we should go check on them."
When Kyle smiles like he understands, like John's a good guy doing a good thing, John digs his nails into his palms and smiles back.
When night comes again, they walk for half of it and find the woman and man huddled around a fire that gives off wind-blown spirals of grey smoke. Kyle hisses, "are you cracked up?" He starts to kick shale over the fire until the man stands and pushes him away.
"It doesn't matter. They're coming or we'll starve out here, at least we'll be warm."
"We gave you ration packs."
"So maybe we'll starve a few days later."
Kyle looks down and away, the woman sighs and looks up at John. "Do you have any water?"
John crouches and hands her his water bottle. She sips it almost genteelly and hands it back barely touched. "Thank you."
Her skin is wax-like in the glow of the fire and her eyes are bright – too bright. There's a thick, putrid smell; he looks down at the blankets covering her.
"What happened?"
"The black's in it. I told Neil to go on, but he wouldn't." She flips the blanket off her leg; a long gash is almost hidden by the swelling the skin is bruised dark with dead blood. A bloated maggot twists up out of the wound and writhes against her skin, he flicks it away and feels the heat radiating from her.
"I can give you something for the pain," he says.
Her gaze takes him in levelly; she's still lucid enough to focus. "No, not like that."
It's all euphemism here, he forgets sometimes. "Not like that," he agrees. He pulls an auto-injector from the pocket of his bag and shows her the label and the dosage. "It will make you more comfortable, that's all. I'm sorry I can't do more."
Neil looks at the injector as if he's expecting it to disappear. "Where did you get that?"
"Morphine fairy," John mutters.
The woman grins, showing even teeth, a little too small for her face.
Kyle's hand on his arm pulls John up and away, far enough away their whispers won't be heard. "That's dangerous. They know we have something, they could tell people."
John makes a show of looking around. "What people? Where?"
Kyle shakes his arm to bring him back. "Jackals."
"Would they still be out here if they were working for Jackals?" John jerks his arm away. "And even if they were, she doesn't deserve to go like that. She's still human."
Kyle scowls at him but says nothing except, "Now what?"
"Light the fire again, she'll feel cold. We can make her warm."
"The machines will see it."
John can't look him in the eye. "We'll take that chance."
"This isn't-"
"Kyle, you said you'd follow my lead. If you can't do that, then go. No harm, no foul."
Kyle's jaw flexes and he goes to relight the fire.
The woman begins to whimper a few hours later, breath coming in short, hoarse gasps always on the edge of screams. Blood streams down her chin as she bites through her lip, and when John reaches her side her hand grips his wrist so hard he feels bones grate.
He presses the injector against her thigh and holds her gaze with his own. She nods and he releases the dose.
It only takes a few seconds before her hand relaxes and then her eyes track back around to meet his own. "Zeke?"
"Sure," he smiles and looks up at Neil; Neil shakes his head, as mystified as John.
The woman doesn't seem to mind; she smiles back, "I missed you. I looked for you for so long. They wouldn't let me, I tried."
"I know." John nods and gently squeezes her hand. "I know you did. And now you found me."
Her breath speeds up and John knows it's the fever that's going to kill her, can feel pulse in her wrist speeding and weakening as her heart struggles and fails.
The woman blinks and then, on one long breath, she dies.
John hangs his head for a moment and then looks up to Neil. "What was her name?"
"Kay something. I don't – I don't know."
John looks around just enough to take in Kyle. "We're going to bury her, we're not leaving her for the rats."
Neil's expression is tight as he takes Kay's hand from John and lays it across her chest.
Kyle just looks confused. "What makes her so special?"
"What doesn't?"
In the end they pile the rubble over her and mark the head with a red rag from John's pack; it's all they can do.
At dawn the machines find them, even though they're only three now.
It's bright lights and screams and pain, and then it's darkness.
When John wakes up – stage one: stay alive, complete – it's dark and someone is whimpering. For a change, it isn't him.
"Kyle?" he whispers and the metallic floor beneath him jerks. He realizes they're swinging. "Kyle," he calls more loudly.
"Connor?"
"Neil? Where's Kyle?"
"I don't know, I saw him and then-"
"I'm here." Kyle's voice sounds ragged but strong. John breathes out. "But I'm telling you, your plans are hard on your friends."
At least he doesn't sound too angry; John almost smiles. "I'm sorry, this was the only way."
"Plan?" Neil sounds lost and suspicious.
"You don't need to know," says Kyle. "But if you stick close, we'll get you out."
"Out?" Neil is moving somewhere in the darkness. "There is no out, what the hell did you-?"
John can hear a thud and a wheeze, "Kyle? What the hell?"
"We done, Neil?" Kyle asks conversationally.
There's a choking sound, John guesses that's Neil.
With no warning, the bottom of the container drops out and sends them down into rotting mud. John manages to make it to his knees but his arm is caught and held; he looks up into the torn-up face of a T-600 and grits his teeth against a scream.
When the laser begins to burn a barcode into his arm, he lets the scream out. He isn't alone; Kyle and Neil's shouts are loud and more scared than angry.
When the laser finishes John breathes in short gasps and holds his arm tight against his chest, blinking rapidly against tears.
It's still not as bad as Kate rebuilding his shoulder with the medical equivalent of a brick, but it's not far away.
He isn't given any time to regroup; a rubbery hand clamps down on the back of his neck and drags him through a doorway and down a low-lit corridor. He tries to count steps, or doors, or anything at all but he can't remember the numbers beyond the one-two thudding in his chest.
With a lurch he's thrown into a massive, darkly lit space that reminds him of down below: packed out with more people than room, stench and heat mingling and turning the people into animals.
There are cages, he can just make out Kyle and Neil being thrown into one and can't understand why he's in a different one until he looks at the figures around him.
These are the younger ones; he's been placed with the children.
He remembers his mother putting the freshest meat at the back of the cooler and wishes he hadn't.
There's no noise. No whispering, no shouting, no screaming. The eyes he can see are blank and switched off.
So it's not hard to make out the soft whisper from the other side of the cage. "John Connor?"
He turns around and can't see anything; he doesn't know the voice. A figure pushes its way forward and finally he can make her out.
She's small, still small – she maybe comes up to his shoulder – and the freckles are long buried under the dirt, the red hair is hidden by the filth. But he can still see the little girl there in the face of the woman.
"Savannah?"
"She said you'd come." Her smile is weak but it's more human than anything else in these cages.
"How are you in here?"
"With the children?"
John nods and her smile widens until he thinks it has to hurt. "They only check the barcodes, they think I'm ten."
He frowns and looks down at her arm, he can't see any evidence of tampering and honestly can't see how she'd manage that anyway.
"They got it wrong?"
That doesn't sound likely but before he can think about it she's gripping his arm, "I've been here a long time and I want to go, can we go now?"
Automatically, he nods and pats the hand holding on so tight. "Soon. Really soon. I promise."
He pulls her down to sit with him in the corner, next to a little boy curled so tight around himself he's just a shape in the shadows. That seems to settle her for a moment, he asks, "How did you end up in here?"
"The same way as everyone else, but that's not what you want to ask."
Her tone is pure Catherine Weaver and John shivers. "Do you know what happened to my mom?"
"No. She said they'd be back and they never came back."
"Where was she going?"
"Mom says if I tell you everything, you won't need to get us out."
"I swear we'll get you out. I came to get you out." His brain catches up with her words. "Your mom? Your mom's here?"
Savannah stares down at her hands; John falls silent.
"Connor, you out there?" Kyle isn't even shouting but his voice is still jarringly loud.
"Yeah," says John. "I'm here."
"How's that plan going?"
"Great. It's going great." He looks into the dull eyes of the little figure curled up next to him. It takes him a moment, a long moment, to see the difference between life and death. John reaches over to close the boy's eyes and thinks there's more than enough rubble to cover this grave and everyone in it.