The transport hums beneath us, a steady, soothing vibration that's at odds with the chaos we've just left behind. The sky is a bright yellow-green, as the first of three suns are already up, casting long, sharp shadows across the sand and already heating the air.
We're moving fast, the wind whipping past us, the desert a blur of sand and sky. I can feel the heat of the sun on my skin, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the transport beneath me, the warmth of Alistair's body against mine.
I didn't have any time to think about how close I'd have to be to him on the way out, but now...
It's awkward.
I can feel the tension in his body, the coiled strength of his muscles, the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He's focused on the controls, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his hands steady on the wheel.
I should let go of him. I should sit back, give him some space. But I can't bring myself to do it. The memory of the explosion, the flames, the chaos... it's all too fresh, too raw. I need the contact, the reassurance that I'm not alone, that I made it out.
That we made it out.
I can feel his gaze on me, a quick, sidelong glance, but I don't meet it. I keep my eyes fixed on the desert ahead, on the endless expanse of sand and sky.
"...You okay?" he asks, his voice a low, cautious murmur.
"Yeah." My answer is too quick. Too tight. Too...
"No." I admit, the word a reluctant confession.
He's quiet for a moment, then he nods, as if he expected nothing less. "Yeah. Me too." His voice is a low, raspy sound, a mirror of my own turmoil. "They're. Definitely going to want us dead for this."
"That's an improvement." I grumble.
I'm not okay.
I'm not even close to okay.
I'm angry, scared, and... I don't know what else. There's a hollow emptiness inside me, a void where my heart used to be, a space that's been carved out by the events of the last few days, filled with a cold, hard anger.
I don't know how to process it, how to deal with it. I've never felt anything like this before, a rage so intense it's almost terrifying. It's a living thing inside me, a beast that's been unleashed, and I don't know how to control it.
I don't even know if I want to.
My hands are trembling, and I grip his shirt a little harder to stop it.
"...I really..." I speak softly. "Want to see it all burn down." I say it.
And I do.
I want to see their ships burn, their cities burn, their whole damn civilization burn. I want them to feel the pain, the loss, the despair that they've inflicted on us.
I want to make them pay.
It's a dark, dangerous thought, a path that leads to... I don't know. To something dark, something I'm not sure I'm ready for.
But it's the only thing I have right now. The only thing keeping me going.
Alistair is quiet again, his silence a thoughtful, contemplative thing. Then he sighs, a long, slow exhale of breath. "Yeah," he says, his voice a low, bitter murmur. "Me too."
We ride in silence after that, the wind rushing past us, the sun beating down on us, the desert stretching out in front of us, endless and indifferent.
I don't know for sure if Ivan never grabbed one of these because he never had the choice, or if it's got some kind of tracker. We might be leading the aliens straight back to our hiding place.
But it's a chance I have to take.
Without it... we'd be dead.
I have to risk it. I don't want to. But I have to.
I can feel the tension in Alistair's body, the same thoughts probably running through his mind. But we don't talk about it. We don't need to. We both know the stakes, the risks. We're in this together, for better or worse.
The sun climbs higher in the sky, the heat intensifying, turning the desert into a vast, shimmering oven. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back, the dry, parched feeling in my throat.
We need water. We need shade. We need... something.
But there's nothing out here. Just sand, and sky, and the relentless, unforgiving sun.
I squint, trying to make out something, anything, in the distance. A mirage, a hallucination, a sign of hope.
But there's nothing.
Just the endless desert, stretching out in all directions, a beautiful, deadly prison.
I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against Alistair's back, the warmth of his body a small comfort in the vast emptiness.
We'll make it.
We have to.
And then...
Then I don't know.
There's not a path in front of us. There's no path forward at all. Whether we took these supplies or not, there was never a....
A memory bubbles up in my mind.
It was only a few weeks ago now, yet it feels like months. Years, even.
Ivan said...that ridiculous statement about going forward even if there's a wall in front of you. Instead of crashing, climb it.
That's what he said.
But...
Why should I take the advice of a dead man? He died. He failed. His plan didn't work. Everything...
Everything fell apart.
We didn't even have a proper burial. Even if there's a body to bury. I'm sure there's nothing left but charred remains now.
Burnt to ashes in the fire.
I guess that's a kind of cremation, isn't it?
I swallow.
I've never felt so angry and so hopeless in my entire life.
It's like those two opposing feelings are war with each other, swallowing up everything in my mind. Like I don't have room for anything else.
I'm surprised I'm not just screaming. I've wanted to. Since the moment Eric shot Ivan, it's like I've been holding my breath, holding in the scream. Even in the cave, I swallowed it back. Because...
I don't know if I'd stop, once I started.
"What are you going to do when we get back?" Alistair's voice cuts through the chaos in my mind, pulling me back to the present.
"Get these supplies unloaded. Then...I don't know. Maybe get this thing away from our place..."
"You think it's bugged?"
"Don't you?"
He hums. "Didn't you say they wouldn't bother to put keys on this because none of the slave cattle would ever get their hands on it? Why would they put a tracker?"
"...I don't know. I don't know what they think. All I know is that they're not stupid. I don't want to underestimate them."
He seems to think about that. "Fair. Guess we'll have to figure out what to do with it, then."
"...Yeah. Guess so."
"Did you think about anything else?"
I squint up at him against the wind. "...Like what?"
"Like...what we're going to do now."
"I'm not...if there's any kind of leader left, it's Arden." I shake my head. "Ask him."
"If he's the leader, why are we out here? Why are you the one who made the call to come here?" He asks.
I pause.
I...
"I didn't...I just. Couldn't die quietly in a cave." I say, my voice strained. "I didn't do it for any other reason." I say, defensively. "We needed supplies. That's it."
"I also. Don't want to die in a cave." He points out. "But I didn't think about the supply depot."
"Maybe you're not angry enough." I grumble.
I can feel the tension in his body change. "Is that what you think?" He asks. "That I'm not angry?"
"I don't know what you are, Alistair. I barely know you." I say, my tone sharper than I intend.
He doesn't argue, doesn't snap back at me. The tension in his body doesn't change, but he does go silent for a while.
Long enough I think he might just...be done talking.
"I'm angry." He finally says, voice low. "You don't. Know how angry I am."
I look up at him, but he doesn't look back at me. He keeps his eyes on the horizon, his expression as unreadable as ever.
But there's something in his voice, a raw, ragged edge that wasn't there before. A hint of the anger he's keeping locked away, hidden behind his calm, indifferent facade.
"...I don't know what to do with it." I admit. It feels like an important thing to say, even if I don't know why.
He's quiet for a moment, then he sighs. "Neither do I."
We fall into silence again, the only sound the hum of the transport, the whistle of the wind. The sun beats down on us, relentless, unforgiving, a reminder of the harsh reality we're living in.
I don't know what's going to happen when we get back to the cave. I don't know what Arden will say, what the others will think. I don't know what we do next.
But we...
At least tonight, and for a little while after that...
We won't starve to death, hiding away in a cave.