"Christ, Paige!" was all Bart Piedmont could say as he and Daryl Budd carried her up into the belly of the Columbia.
Eric tagged behind them while Phil La Porte kept guard outside.
Tracy was waiting outside, hobbling about pretty spryly on her bad leg. Piedmont had put a real cast on the leg and she got about with a cane someone had cut for her from a branch. Tracy looked at both of them. "You're sure hell on women, Eric."
Paige laughed, winced from her split lip. "We were fine until he wanted to dance. The man's just too clumsy."
Tracy and Paige laughed together, one of those shared womanly laughs that Eric didn't pretend to understand. He just smiled at them, pleased they were able to find something to laugh about.
"How secure are we, sir?" Daryl Budd, all business, asked. Eric had to admire the guy's sense of duty.
"We've got a couple hours on them, I'd say. Maybe three hours, but I wouldn't want to bet on it. You'd better take off before then."
"Right, sir."
"What the hell happened out there?" Bart Piedmont demanded. "Did you find your father, Paige?"
Paige told the whole story, carefully, precisely. Eric marvelled at her recall of details and even dialogue.
As Paige spoke, Tracy put her arms around Eric and held him. She didn't have to hear the story to know what had happened. Eric was back, but Tim wasn't. That's all that mattered. At least Tim was still alive, but then so was Fallows.
Bart Piedmont listened as he tended Paige's wounds, cleaning and dressing her face. He could see the blood where it had seeped through her clothes. "Any other wounds I should take a look at?"
Paige brushed him away. "Not until you've at least bought me dinner."
"That can be arranged."
She stood up slowly. "Get this thing ready to take off, Bart."
"Aye, aye, Captain Kirk." He mock saluted. He turned to Eric and Tracy and smiled. "Fasten yourselves in, folks. We wouldn't want any of our passengers getting hurt."
Tracy knew what Eric would say, so she said it for him. "Thanks, Bart. Really. But we'll have to wait for the next train. There's still one passenger we've got to find."
"Tracy-" Bart started.
"Hey, I've already seen the in-flight movie." Tracy reached for her backpack. "See, I told you it was smart to pack this thing up this morning, just in case." She grabbed one of the HK 93s. "And this makes a nice little going-away present."
"Except that you're not going anywhere," Eric said. He took the pack and gun from her.
"What are you talking about? Tim's still out there."
"Yes, and I'm going after him. Only I'm going alone this time."
"Like hell!" she said.
He smiled, stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "Listen, Tracy. I appreciate what you're trying to do. And I'm going to miss you, really miss you. But this is no good with you limping around this island forever. It's not going to do either of us any good."
Tracy stared into his eyes for a minute without speaking. When she did, her voice fought against sobbing. "I wish I could be braver, Eric. I wish I could say to hell with safety and the mainland. I'll stay here forever if that's how long it takes." She swallowed. "But I can't. I want to go back. I do. And I want you to come with me. Only I know you won't."
Eric leaned over and kissed her on the lips. It was a light, almost chaste kiss, yet there was an energy there that transcended their past passions and touched an even deeper friendship.
Eric slung the pack over his shoulder and started for the ladder. "Hope there's some clean underwear in here."
"There is," Tracy said through her tears, "mine."
Eric laughed as he stepped onto the ladder.
"If you give me a couple of minutes to throw some things together," Paige said, "you can escort me out of here."
"What?" everyone said at once.
"Are you crazy?" Daryl Budd asked, then remembered his position and added, "ma'am."
"Paige, listen to me," Bart Piedmont said, his voice quietly calm. "You're in shock, some kind of delayed stress syndrome. You don't know what you're doing."
"Sure I do, Bart. I'm packing a few basic necessities and getting out of here."
"Listen to him, Paige," Eric said. "What just happened out there, that's only the beginning."
"Don't patronize me, Eric. I learn fast. I can imagine what else goes on out there. Oh, and don't think I'll be traveling with you, if that's what you're worried about. I'm strictly on my own. I'm going to find my father."
"Paige!" Bart pleaded, his voice no longer calm. "That's insane. He's probably dead. Those kids, those cannibal kids probably killed him. Or ate him like poor Steve."
Paige walked about the deck gathering things and stuffing them into a nylon backpack. "I don't think so, Bart. He may be dead, but I don't think those kids knew him. I really don't. Something else happened to him, and that may mean he's alive."
"Jesus, Paige," Bart said. "Why? Why mess around with this now? After all this time?"
She nodded at Eric. "How come you don't ask him why he's going back out? Because he's a man and expected to look out for his family?"
"Come on, Paige, this is no time for Joan of Arc feminism. I don't deserve that crap."
"You're right, Bart. I'm sorry. I guess the only good reason I can give for going is that I think Dad would do it for me. The worst part about it is that it had never even occurred to me to try before today. For that, I'm ashamed."
Bart continued to plead as Paige stuffed her backpack. But even he realized it was no use after a while. He tried to force her stay by gunpoint, but she merely smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
Outside the ship, Daryl Budd made sure the others were aboard before climbing onto the ladder himself. He took one step, turned, and said to Eric, "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"The tapes." He held out his hand.
Eric smiled, handed the tapes over. Budd pocketed them. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
Budd reached down under his jacket and yanked the silver chain from around his neck. A silver Mickey Mouse dangled from the end. "It's not religious or anything. My girlfriend gave it to me for our second anniversary of going steady. Like I said, it's not religious, not like a charm or anything. No big deal." He shrugged, not sure what he was trying to say. "I dunno, I just know I'd like it if you took it. It couldn't hurt, huh?" He handed it to Eric.
"You think I'm nuts, too, don't you?" Paige asked.
"Yup."
"You think I should've gone back?"
"Uh-huh."
They stood on the edge of the dark runway and watched the Columbia rip along the pavement. Portable strobe lights had been set along the runway by Budd and La Porte and they blinked long after the plane disappeared into the dense Halo.
"Do you think those kids killed my father?"
"Nope."
"Then he might still be alive?"
"Maybe."
"But you still think I'm nuts."
"Yup."
She thought about that for a moment. "But you could have gone back. You didn't. You stayed too. How do you explain that?"
"Easy," he said. "I'm nuts too."
They found a secluded place to spend the night. Eric cooked a rabbit while Paige piled leaves into a soft bed. They sat next to the fire and talked. Later they stripped naked and crawled into Paige's NASA sleeping bag. They made love twice. The first time Eric was careful because of Paige's wounds. The second time, Paige took control. Afterwards they slept holding each other close.
In the morning, they ate some leftover rabbit and tea and hardly talked at all. When it was over, they buried the fire, kissed, and said goodbye.
"See you." Paige waved as she headed south.
"Probably," Eric said, heading north.