Mia's mind raced as Ford stared at her.
"I thought you remembered him before," He blinked.
"I remembered the name," She said, "and vague outlines. It was so long ago."
She closed her eyes again. Images flashed there. Martin was indelibly printed, since his was the last face she would see as the cave closed in around her and the first one she saw as it opened again.
The other men had been tenuous silhouettes that she couldn't quite pin down. She hadn't even been absolutely certain which one was Gary, but as they passed through the hallway, to one side she saw the larger, more open area where she had spent her last night in this cave.
It had been a time of hope, of reunification. Because, although Martin had closed the mouth of the cave, he had agreed to let them out the next morning.
Uncle Trace and Aunt Annie had been there, and there were lamps to light the way.
It had been more joyful, and yet, somehow, scarier.
