But that was her strength right now.
He would test it later and see how it was. And he would test his own, because if they were going to get out of this jungle, they would need all the strength they could find.
Caine whirled. "What do you want?" he asked the boy who had come up behind him.
"I want to know how you're going to get us out of here, Driver." The boy's face still held the same stretched sarcastic look, but his eyes were no longer sharp and insolent. The fright showed easily, and behind the fright, Caine knew there was panic.
"I'm not going to get you out of here," Caine said, his voice suddenly soft. "I'm going to leave you right here to think about your stupidity."
"Listen, listen!" the boy screamed. "You don't talk that way to me, friend. You listen, you don't talk to me that way, do you hear?"
Caine's voice was a quick snapping sound. "Shut up!" He stood there, body tense, his eyes glaring at the frantic youth.
The boy turned and ran a few feet across the hill where he fell down on his knees and crouched, his eyes darting like those of a penned wildcat. He lifted his camera, released the shutter, and yanked out the finished picture to throw it into the waiting liquid.
The picture skipped and then floated.
Caine stared at the floating picture. It lay on the surface for a long minute and then slowly it disappeared.