They were shouting, crowding, racing to the dock, and the ship that would be their rescue. But Tom met Dave, who’d been sick, and they stumbled aside. Suddenly the press of bodies grew still; sirens sounding; the gangplank drawn up.
“No!” came the strangled cry of those left behind.
“We’ll be back,” shouted the sailors, but they never returned.
Gunmen poured from the shelter of trees, planes burning land and sea with bullets and flame, and the saving ship went down.
Lesser of two evils after all, being taken captive. But Dave died. Tom named his first-born son for him.