Rawdon didn’t smile or find much humour in any of it. He was tired, physically and mentally. Maybe they were expecting a little more exuberant gratitude, but the days of begging for help were passed, and waiting for death had become his new normal. Hope had been extinguished, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about having it dangled in front of him again.
“It is probably not usual for a desperate wreck to place conditions on his rescue, but I have one,” he told them both with a calmness. “If it does not work, for any reason, then I want you to kill me. If you can guarantee that you won’t leave me to wait however many more hours or days... then yes, I will accept.”