Chapter 78

Rebecca was still with Mac, sitting next to him on the ground.

"There are people I need to call," Mac said.

"There will be time for that later," she said.

He swallowed hard. He needed a drink. "There was no warning—that's what the pilot who brought them there said," he told her. "That side of the mountain just… it was like some kind of avalanche. They're speculating that the missile strikes might have caused the seismic activity, but at this point they're just not sure." He took a deep breath. "Either way, knowing won't bring them back."

Now he turned to her. "I was the one who asked her to go," he said.

"If you hadn't, she would have volunteered," Rebecca said. "She was on a mission."

"For me."

"Mac," she said, "we're all on the same mission. And we're as fierce about it as Jenny was, because we know we're running out of time."

"The difference is," he said, "Jenny and Rick have already run out of time."

He told her to go get some rest, even if it was just on a couch somewhere. Rivers wanted them all in his office the next morning at six. She promised she would sleep after she went over her maps one last time.

"Liar," Mac said quietly.

Rebecca went back inside. Mac made no attempt to get up. He'd put his phone down in the dirt next to him. When it began buzzing, he forced himself to pick it up and see who was calling.

His wife.

"Rick's wife called to tell me," she said as soon as he answered. "Mac, I'm so sorry."

He'd spoken to Linda a couple of times over the past week, Mac explaining the situation here in the broadest possible terms. And he'd called the boys a few times and exchanged emails. Linda hadn't told them how much danger their dad was in; there was no point in scaring them. But she knew, even with as little as he was telling her.

"Not nearly as sorry as I am," Mac said.

She knew most of what had happened on Isabela Island from what the army had told Rick's wife, Eileen. Mac and Linda spoke for a couple of minutes, then he asked if he could talk to the boys.

She put the phone on speaker so the boys could hear him. They asked if he was okay. He told them he was. They said they were sad about Aunt Jenny and Uncle Rick, and Mac said that he was too. Charlie asked, his voice breaking, if Mac was going to die. Mac told them both that he was fine and that they shouldn't worry, he'd be seeing them before they knew it, and what had happened to Aunt Jenny and Uncle Rick had happened thousands of miles away.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold it together, not allow himself to think this might be the last time he'd ever talk to his sons.

"Both of you…" His throat felt tight. He covered the phone and cleared his throat and went on. "You both know how proud I am of you, right? How proud I've always been?"

Max said, "Dad, you tell us that all the time."

"I can never tell you enough," Mac said.

Charlie said, "You tell us that too."

Mac covered the phone again. Cleared his throat again. "The best thing that has ever happened to me is being your dad," he said finally. He could feel the tears on his cheeks and was grateful he wasn't on FaceTime or Zoom. "I love you both so much," he said. The tears kept coming.

"Love you too, Dad," they said in unison.

Then Charlie said, "Talk soon."

Talk soon.

Linda took the phone off speaker.

"The boys wish they were with you," she said.

"Well, we both know that's not going to happen any time soon." And maybe not ever.

Neither one of them spoke for a few moments. Mac was used to that by now with the woman he already thought of as his ex-wife. By the end, before she'd taken the twins and left, the only way they'd communicated was with extended silences like these.

"I'm so sorry," Linda said finally.

"I know how much you liked them both," he said.

"I meant I'm so sorry about us, Mac," she said. "I'm so sorry we couldn't make it work."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. All he knew was that he no longer wanted to be on this call.

"I know I'd sound like an idiot if I told you to stay safe," she said. "But you can at least take some consolation in knowing that the boys are safe."

He wanted to start screaming again in that moment, the way he'd screamed his throat raw when he'd gotten the call from the Galápagos.

He wanted to scream at her that their sons weren't safe and she wasn't safe whether they were on the mainland or not, because no one was safe no matter where in the world they were.

But he didn't say that.

Not because he'd promised Rivers he wouldn't tell anybody.

He didn't say that because he couldn't bring himself to.

There was one last silence before Linda said, "I love you, Mac."

He acted as if he hadn't heard, as if the call were already over. He was about to go back inside when the phone buzzed again.

A single word on the caller ID:

Rivers.