Juanita was gone, and to judge by the tracks in the fresh mud, she had left with a rescuer in civilian shoes who had some kind of big military truck. That was good news to Alex, because Juanita’s eyes had been crossed and glassy in those last hours, and he had her figured for a mild concussion. He felt sure that Juanita, or at least some helpful Trouper, would show up again in pretty short order, somehow, soon. She’d be coming to find him. And even if she didn’t want to find him in particular, that car had a lot of data and megabytage in it.