“Wont
let me do what?” Oak asked, eyeing the cats warily.
“Whatever
it is you were going to do,” I replied. “Wake my son, prepare
for an evacuation.”
“Whatever
is going to happen,” Oak said sternly, “Will happen whether we
evacuate or not. Tying me up will not change that. Events are in
progress, they cannot be stopped.”
“Mary,”
my husband implored as he returned, “You're not being rational.”
“No,”
she said, and pointed at Robert's sleeping body, “None of this is
rational, but our son has gone to get help, we have to make sure he
has enough time.”
“There
is no more time,” Oak warned, “What has to be done, is being
done.”
