The anger that has taken root in my chest is a strange, unfamiliar feeling. It's not the hot, impulsive rage of a child's tantrum, nor the cold, calculated vengeance of a movie villain. It's something else, something more elemental, more profound. It's a fire that burns away the fog of fear and grief, leaving behind a stark, clear landscape of purpose.
I am not a victim.
I am not a pawn.
I....
I don't really know what I am.
But I do know that I won't let them win.
Well. It's easy to say that in my own head. It's easy to think it. But the hard part is figuring out how to not let them win.
Which, unfortunately, is a lot more difficult than I really want it to be.
Hestia has calmed down, her sobs reduced to small, hitching breaths, her body no longer trembling in my arms. I pull back a little, just enough to look at her, to see the fear still lingering in her eyes.
"It's okay," I whisper, my voice a low, soothing murmur. "I'm here. I'm not going to let them get you."
The words are a promise, a vow. I don't know how I'm going to keep it, but I will. I have to.
She nods, a small, hesitant gesture, her eyes searching mine for a reassurance I'm not sure I can provide. But I try, I give her a smile, a small, strained thing that I hope conveys more confidence than I feel.
Arden is moving through the small crowd, a dark, lanky shadow against the dim light of the fading glow-stick. He's checking on everyone, his voice a low, gentle murmur that's at odds with the grim set of his jaw.
I watch him, my mind turning over the problem at hand. We're trapped in this cave, with limited supplies, limited options, and an enemy that knows we're here. It's only a matter of time before they find us, before they flush us out like rats from a hole.
We need a plan.
A real plan.
That's what Ivan had, though, and it didn't do any of us any good.
He had a long, careful plan. One that took years.
And it all fell down.
And here I am...
Thinking I can pull out a better one on the spot?
I lean my head back against the wall and stare up at the ceiling of the cave.
I wish. That I were smarter. More educated. Had more resources. Had more...
Experience.
All of which are things I don't have.
I don't know the first thing about strategy, about survival, about leading a group of people in a situation like this. I'm just a girl from Oregon, a girl who wanted a normal life, a girl who's been thrown into a nightmare worse than anything I dreamed before. I don't know...
I don't know what to do.
But I have to do something.
I have to try.
I gently untangle myself from Hestia, making sure she's settled and comfortable before standing up. My legs are stiff, my body aching from the long, frantic run and the hard, unforgiving floor of the cave. I make my way over to Arden, my steps slow, deliberate, the anger in my chest a steady, burning flame.
"Arden," I say, my voice low, but firm.
He turns to me, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Sarah," he says, his gaze searching mine. "Are you alright?"
"No," I say, the word a blunt, honest admission. "But that's not important right now."
He raises an eyebrow, a silent question in his eyes.
"We need a plan," I say, my voice steady, despite the tremor in my hands. "We can't just sit here and wait for them to find us. We have to do something."
"Something like what?" he asks, his tone skeptical. "We're outmanned, outgunned, and out of options. Ivan's plan was our best shot, and it... it didn't work. Even if we want to regroup and try again, it will take time."
"Waiting is as good as giving up. You know that." I say it simply.
He sighs, a long, slow exhalation of breath. "I know that. But what do you suggest we do? Charge out of here and fight? They'll cut us down before we get ten feet. Run deeper into the wilderness than we already are?"
He shakes his head. "There's nowhere to run. There's nothing but sand and death out there. You can't just go wandering around and hope to find shelter. It takes time. Wandering without that is as much death as it would be to walk back into their arms."
I....
Don't really have any good answers, Even if I'd overheard the aliens saying things, I wouldn't have understood them. So I don't have anything like secret knowledge that others didn't.
My fingers press to my forehead and I take a deep sigh.
We need a leader.
We need a plan.
We need hope.
We need...
Something.
We need time.
And we don't have it.
"I don't know," I admit, the words a bitter taste in my mouth. "But we can't just give up. We have to try. We have to think of something."
Arden looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs again, running a hand through his lanky hair. "You're right," he says, his voice a low, reluctant admission. "We can't just sit here. We have to do something. I just... I don't know what."
The admission is a small victory, a crack in the wall of despair that's been building around us. It's not much, but it's something.
He sighs a third time and he shakes his head.
"We'll have a few days, at least. It will take them time to process their captives. That much I remember from the prior attempts." His eyes meet mine and he offers a weak, tired smile. "So we have time to think, at least. I don't have all the answers Sarah. I'm just trying to keep us going while we do find them."
"...Right." I...don't know what to say to that.
I just...nod.
"...I'll let you know if I think of anything."
"...Sure."