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Mr. Danya
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Jordan and Hazel’s pleas were falling on deaf ears, as much as Nate wished otherwise.

He knew it wasn’t ok, he knew they couldn’t stay together. Even if he left with them now, someone would come along and try to kill them, and he’d probably leave them high and dry because he was such a coward. Even if he didn’t, whoever had come along, probably a friend, would just kill him and it’d be over anyway.

And a rescue? It had been six days already; if a rescue was coming, wouldn’t one have by now? How many of these things even ended in rescue? It was a nice thought, but nice thoughts hadn’t done him any good until now, and now he was at the brink of suicide. It didn’t seem like he’d ever think a nice thought ever again.

He kept holding Hazel’s hands, still sobbing, but just a bit quieter as he tired out. His throat was growing hoarse, and his eyes were turning red and sore again, both made sensitive by the days of tears.

“It’s – it’s no good. We’re all going to die, or start killing each other. I just don't want to do it anymore.”
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Where Will You Stand When the Flood Comes? · The Connecting Bridge