Rick Flores was the first to give up. Sometimes it’s hard to tell complete surrender from the thousand-yard stare, but with Rick it was obvious: when it was time to bug out he just didn’t seem in much of a hurry to get away anymore. At least twice I had to pull him along to safety.
At the bridge we didn’t notice he wasn’t with us until he was fifty yards behind and surrounded. I keep telling myself we couldn’t have rescued him, not really. He would have found another way out, tomorrow, the next day. It was just time.