“What?” Jesse spat. “Sorry I’m not one of the boys? Is that it?”
I shook my head. “No ... I ... it’s just that ...”
“Blame it on my mom; it was her idea,” said Jesse—even as her teeth clattered and Quint approached with the coat. As the ocean roared and the moon shone, coolly, dispassionately. “Before she got divested of her intestines—by a pack of velociraptors. She, she didn’t think a woman could be safe—after the Flashback, I mean. And she was right ... from what I witnessed on my way to Granger. Before I got to Camp Courage.” She looked through her wet hair at us. “Before Hal and Macey—and Colby. And you. Both of you.”
I watched, disoriented, as Quint draped the jacket over her shoulders—then helped her toward shore. “But ... I mean,” I stammered. “Quint. How did ... How long—”
“Ho
