"Charlie?!" Lisa said, the fear tightening her throat. "He's either dead or he can save himself."
Charlie refused to meet her gaze as he packed the duffel-bag. Lisa frantically pulled the wooden stakes out of the bag, undoing his careful packing.
"He doesn't need your help," she insisted as Charlie pulled the bag away from her and carefully replaced the stakes, making sure they didn't damage the plastic water bottles.
He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand and softly said, "It doesn't matter. He'd come back for me."
"You will die, Charlie!" Lisa whispered.