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“Two months.” Alex slid out another card from our haphazard pile on the armrest between our seats; we’d learned a few years ago that if we looped a hair band over them and the armrest they were less likely to scatter like frightened birds if we hit turbulence.

“No way.” I snorted, almost swallowing the pen lid I was chewing on, and looked over my cards.  “Have you seen the size of this place?  We’ll be gone in two weeks.  Tops.”

“What if they decide they like being cut off from everywhere else?” Alex challenged and I rolled my eyes, pushing my hair out of my face.

“Are we talking about the same people?  They won’t last on an island.” I sighed as I looked at my cards again, trying to see if there was any way I could save this hand.  “Fold.” I grumbled when I admitted defeat, pushing my cards back into the pile.

“Never know, Logan.” Alex shrugged as he put his cards back as well.  “They might decide this is just what they want.  This could be it.  The last move.”

I rested my head against the window even though it was dark and tried to see the water moving below.  Even though Alex was older, he seemed to be the naïve one.

“It’ll never be the last move.” I disagreed quietly.

Alex didn’t bother to argue.

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