Susannah. That was her name, wasn't it? The woman who'd fought with him against those death lizards. After she and the man died he'd managed to create a trap with the metal wire he'd gotten from his sponsors and collapsed some sharpened, poisoned spikes on it.

He'd just not run into either of them again afterward but he'd wanted to.

They both had nerve.

"I'm - I got thrown in. I came to this floor to catch my breath - not many people come here, but someone was here. I can't get out. I can't -"

The way he cried was not just because of his imminent death. There was something deeper there.

"No one gets out of this. We have it back home. People just - they die of exposure or because they have nothing to drink. The sun just bakes them until their skin splits. Then the vultures come."

If he sounded like he knew this from experience it was because he did. His family'd had to tell him to leave when it was clear they weren't getting out, that they were dying. He'd stayed until their lips were cracked and their skin was burnt from the sun and they'd decided that he'd seen enough.