“I tried to fix the engines,” Dr. Yakub said, his voice breaking. “I thought if I could get them running, I could send a signal for help. But the days turned into weeks…and then months. I’m the only one left.” He shook his head, despair and exhaustion evident in his every word.
Peter listened, his resolve hardening. “We’ll get out of here,” he said firmly. Together, they made their way to the deck of the ship. Peter retrieved the flare guns he had packed, his foresight now a lifeline. With precise aim, he fired a series of bright red flares into the sky.