There was no help coming from Haven. Tris would not get power restored—asking him to look into it had only been a diversion. Keelin had no way of pulling the Proteus from the river. If they left the hold-out, they would be at the mercy of the swarm of creatures. And if they stayed, Cathal’s condition would become even more serious.
Ryann climbed down and sealed the hatch. The clank echoed heavily, and the water on the rungs chilled her hands. She splashed to the floor, and rested one hand on the door.
They were lost. Whatever happened, things could only get worse.
The crew were relying on her. She had to lead them. But there was nothing she could do beyond offer some kind of reassurance. And even that would be wrong. She couldn’t lie to them.
She thought of her father’s wounded livestock, the ones he put out of their misery before their suffering became intolerable. And Ryann knew she had the means to do that. She knew how to over-administer drugs. She knew how to stop the flow of blood to the brain in a number of relatively painless ways.
But she couldn’t do that. Not to herself, and not to the crew. If there was any hope, no matter how small, she couldn’t contemplate something so drastic.
She wasn’t cut out to be a leader. She was a second—care for the crew, and leave the hard decisions up to someone else. Someone more experienced, someone with a better mind. But there was nobody like that. With Cathal indisposed, she was on her own.
What would Cathal do?
Ryann pictured him, back on the Proteus, when they lay under the water. She saw him in the cave, after they’d climbed to escape from the warths. And she knew what he’d do.
He’d do what he did in any situation. He’d call for suggestions. He’d gather information. He’d listen and analyse.
Ryann nodded. She could do that.
She pushed the door open and returned to her crew.
“But we’re safe, right?” Tris said. “They can’t get in. Tell me we’re safe.”
“We’re as safe as we can be,” Ryann said, keeping her voice steady. She’d informed them of the creatures, telling herself she wasn’t going to sugar-coat any of this. They deserved the truth.
“Not even a warth could break through that door,” Keelin said, almost to herself.
“One of those things took down a warth.”
“A warth isn’t a thick layer of metal. Or a solid reinforced concrete wall.” Keelin turned to Tris now, “Even a lash can knock a warth down if you get the right angle.”
“So nothing’s invulnerable.”
“Ryann said we’re as safe as we can be.” Keelin’s voice was soft and steady, but Ryann detected a slight hesitation. “These buildings were built to survive.”
“But…but you’ve seen what those things can do. They took Cathal down in an instant. They bit him, Keelin! They bit him and left him for dead. What happens when they break in here? We don’t stand a chance! We might as well give up.”
Ryann never saw the slap coming, and nor did Tris. His head jerked to one side as the sharp sound echoed around the room, leaving a harsh stillness in its wake.
Tris rubbed his cheek, then examined his palm, as if he expected to see blood. His mouth hung open.
Ryann knew she should step in. She should have read the signs and acted sooner. She was failing once more.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen,” Keelin said, her voice barely audible. She stretched her fingers. Ryann knew her hand must be smarting. “But we’re as safe as we can be for the moment. Panic isn’t going to help. We need to stay calm”
“Keelin’s right,” Ryann said, stepping in before Keelin’s nerves overwhelmed the girl. “I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but we make the best of it. We think clearly, and we stay calm.” That was obvious, and Tris knew it. There was no reason for Ryann to mention it. Cathal would not waste words like this. “So, our strategy. Ideas. Comments.”
Stillness descended again. Ryann knew how close she was to shaking, and she took a deep breath. She pulled the adrenaline in, and steadied her body and mind. And her voice.
“How is he?” Brice asked, nodding to the bunk. He didn’t meet her eyes.
“I’ve done everything I can.”
“So we have to get him back to Haven.”
“Yes.”
“But we don’t have power to call them up.”
“No.” Let Brice make his summary, she thought. It might clear the minds of the others, at least enough for fresh ideas to surface.
“But we have other equipment. There’s stuff in the stores I don’t know about. Not my speciality.”
Ryann saw his glance towards Tris, and there was a flicker of anger, but he pushed it down. She jumped in before it could reappear.
“Tris, that’s your area. We likely to have anything that could help?”
His mouth opened and closed a few times, and his hand returned to rub the redness on his cheek.
“You found something earlier?” Ryann needed to drag him from his funk. “When we first came in, you were rooting around, right?”
He shrugged, and his eyes darted to the storage units. “Saw a few relays before, but they’re not going to push through the concrete. Not all the way to Haven.”
“So we need to get out?” Brice said.
Tris snorted, and Ryann held up a hand as fast as she could. She didn’t need this descending into another fight.
“Tris, let’s talk this through,” she said. “We’ll explore ideas, regardless of practicalities. At the moment.”
He huffed. “Fine. Yes, if we got out, we might be able to reach Haven. But it depends on how much we have, where we are, the storm…there are too many variables.”
“Okay. Let’s cut out one of them at least. Take a look at what we’ve got.”
Tris took the few steps to the storage unit. Brice opened his mouth, then closed it. Probably a wise move, whatever he was going to say.
<Talk to me,>
