"Where did you get dry clothes? Where's Joe? How's the plane? Is there anything to eat?" Rick laughed. "You sure wake up fast!"
"Will you answer my questions!"
"All right. The clothes were dried the hard way—body heat under a poncho. Joe's out hunting. We've got some leftovers from last night."
"And the plane! Tell me about the plane!"
Rick hesitated before saying, "Gone without a trace."
The news hit Con like a blow. "Are you sure?"
"We're sure."
"Oh," said Con softly, and she began to cry.
Rick held her until she stifled her sobs. "When I was alone," said Con, "thinking about our cabin kept me going. I wanted to be there so much."
"Don't give up hope. We'll get through this yet."
"How?" asked Con. The doubt in her voice was plain.
"You want to eat something? We can discuss my plan when Joe returns." A hint of a smile crept onto her face. "You know me too well," she said. "Want to shut me up? Put food in my mouth."
"I wasn't trying to do that."
"Why not? It works."
Con turned to look at Rick's face in the dim light that filtered through the poncho. It was dirty, unshaven, and hag-gard, but his loving expression made it beautiful to her. She was reminded of the gaze he had on the beach, when he believed they were doomed. Although his look brought her joy, it also gave birth to a disturbing thought— Maybe he still thinks we're doomed.
EVER SINCE CON had been found, Rick had turned his thoughts to their dire situation. Until her rescue, his plans for the future had not extended beyond putting her to rest. If that sad duty was not to be merely postponed, he knew he must come up with a strategy for survival. He had spent much of the night weighing unpromising alterna-tives, before choosing one he had previously rejected. It was a desperate plan, if it could be called a plan at all. It was more of a gamble, and a long shot at that. I'm truly the guide now, Rick thought. Joe and Con will expect me to show the way. He realized that, despite their precarious circumstances, he must exude confi-dence. That knowledge burdened him, for as a scientist he dealt in probabilities, not certainties. The course he would propose was a calculated risk at best. Yet, as the guide, he would have to keep his doubts to himself. He was aware that a positive attitude enhanced the chances for survival. In facing the times ahead, a sense of hope would be crucial. Rick resolved to instill one in Con and Joe as he struggled to foster one in himself. As Con ate "leftover nightstalker, Rick mentally re-hearsed what he would say. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps from outside the poncho, fol-lowed by a thud. A cheerful voice called out. "Joe's Bed and Breakfast. I hope my guests are decent." Con threw off the poncho. "Joe!" she said joyfully.
Joe was standing, wrapped in the Tyrannosaur hide, with a dead nightstalker at his feet. "You get under that poncho, young lady. You weren't easy to warm up."
Con complied, and Joe crawled beneath the poncho to join her and Rick. She immediately threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "You're all damp!" she said.
"That dinosaur skin is a better fashion statement than it is a raincoat," said Joe with a grin. He looked at the bone Con had been gnawing. "You're not going to spoil your breakfast, are you? I've prepared something spe-cial."
"What?"
"Nightstalker a la Joe. It's served very rare."
"You shouldn't."
"I know," said Joe, "but since the bastard ate you out of house and home, it seemed only fitting." Con laughed, and her laughter brought happiness to Joe's face. "Rick's going to tell me all about your plans," she said.
"Plans?" said Joe, giving Rick a puzzled look. "Plans are good. Let's hear them, Rick."
"First, we need to set up a temporary camp. Someplace out of the rain."
"That sound's fine," said Joe. "But why temporary?"
"I see it as a base to hunt and build up our food sup-plies and our strength. As long as there's carrion, there'll be nightstalkers for food."
"Oh goody," said Joe.
"Don't complain," said Con. "You should try what I had."
"I've seen that carcass," said Joe. "I can't believe you ate that thing."
"Remember, I was sleeping under it," replied Con. "I got used to the smell."
"We could do a lot worse "than eat nightstalker," said Rick.
"You still haven't answered my question," said Joe. "Why a temporary camp?"
"Soon as the weather clears, we'll head out," said Rick.
"To where?" asked Con.
"We'll follow the river to the sea," said Rick. "To the sea and back to Montana Isle."
"You call that a plan?" said Joe. "What's the point of going there?"
"I think there's a chance people will return to the ob-servatory now that the impact's over."
"You're kidding yourself," said Joe. "No one's coming back there."
"You don't know that for sure," retorted Rick. "This time-altering thing is only a theory. It's just as likely they vacated the observatory for safety reasons."
"You agreed it was pointless to return," said Joe.
"That was when we still had the plane."
"So now, when we have to slog through cold rain, it's suddenly a good idea?"
"With the dust layer blocking the sun," said Rick, "the water cycle will shut down. Things will dry up and stay dry until sunlight returns."
"I'm for staying here," said Joe. "We can settle down and a make a place for ourselves."
"Look, Joe," said Rick, "let's not argue about this in front of Con."
"Don't go off," said Con. "I'm part of this, too. You can't decide without me."
"She's right," said Joe. "It's her life you're risking, too."
"Okay," said Rick with a sigh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this." He sighed again. "We have to go because the ecosystem has collapsed. We're subsisting on scavengers that are living off carrion. It's an inadequate diet to begin with, especially in cold weather. It'll be snowing next and..."
"Snowing?" said Con.
"Yeah," said Rick. "And soon, even the nightstalkers will run out. If it were just you and me, Joe, I wouldn't care. But Con, I can't... I can't watch you starve. If we stay here ..." Rick stopped speaking, unable to utter the words that weighed so heavily on his mind. So much for exuding confidence, he thought.
Rick, Joe, and Con were but inches apart beneath the poncho. Con peered into Joe's dark eyes, saw his hesi-tation and sadness, and realized that the decision was hers alone. She was quiet for a while before she spoke. "I want to try to go to back to the island."
"All right," said Joe. "We'll spend this 'summer' by the shore." His lips formed a smile, but the sadness never left his eyes.
JOE, RICK, AND Con breakfasted on raw nightstalker. When she wasn't chewing the tough meat, Con recounted her adventures while Rick and Joe listened in amazement. Rick was relieved that the talk centered on Con and that he was not pressed for the particulars of his plan. For the moment, it was enough that it had been accepted. There would be plenty of time for details later. After breakfast, Rick and Joe went through their duffel bags to provide Con a wardrobe. Rick was closer to Con's size, but Joe insisted in contributing equally. The result was ill fitting and almost comical, but warm. Re-placing Con's missing shoe was the biggest problem. The best they could do was one of Rick's sandals, worn with three pairs of socks. Joe made Con take his poncho. "I'll use the hide, it's bound to soften up in time."
"We could soften the skin by chewing it," said Rick. "That's what Eskimos did."
"Well, aren't you a font of wisdom," said Joe.
"We could all help chew," said Con.
"I don't trust you, Con," said Joe with a grin. "You might swallow." Rick plucked the nightstalker and stuffed its down into the pouch on his poncho before he finished butchering it. Once that task was done, they headed out to find a shelter. The dim light made it difficult to survey the countryside. Most of what they saw was silhouetted or wrapped in shadow. Nevertheless, they stayed close to the river. That was where carrion was found and, with it, their food— the nightstalkers that fed upon it. They followed the river for miles, and though they encountered a few corpses, they saw no scavengers. Then, after they turned a bend, Con said excitedly, "There's something wading in the river." She pointed to a small bipedal dinosaur struggling to reach the shore.