I swallowed hard. All of these people coming to support us left me feeling stunned for a moment before I could speak. "You’re welcome here," I said when I found my voice. "We need all the help we can get."
Raven stepped forward. "We’ll organize supplies and set up camp.” Raven paused to look at me. “Shall we have them set up in the back pasture?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” Raven continued. “We’re reinforcing the fences, digging blinds for cover. Anyone who can handle a rifle needs to be ready. When Jenkins finds out about this, he won’t sit back and let this slide."
A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd. The people who had come were tired, but I could see the fight in them. They weren’t giving up without reclaiming what was theirs.
By midday, the ranch had transformed. People worked together to fortify defenses as best we could. The ranch and barnyard sat back from the old road with open fields in front and thick woods behind them. We cut timber and built a fence along the front with a gate so that riders couldn’t just come inside unhindered.
Some of the men dug makeshift trenches in strategic locations around the perimeter, places where defenders could take cover when the inevitable attack came. The once-quiet land buzzed with preparation and whispered conversations about what was to come.
I did not doubt that Marcus and his cronies would beback after the way Raven humiliated them when he first arrived.
As evening fell, Raven pulled me aside near the barn. "I’m heading out tonight."
I stiffened. "To Finch’s place?"
"That’s done. Now, I need to see the labor camp for myself. If Zach’s there, I need to know how many men are guarding him."
I crossed my arms, unease creeping through me. "That’s dangerous."
"It’s nothing I can’t handle." He cupped my face briefly, his thumb brushing my cheek. "I’ll be back before dawn. Don’t wait up."
I wanted to argue, but I knew better. Raven was built for this kind of mission. He could slip through the dark unseen, gather intel, and return before anyone even knew he’d been there.
Still, I hated watching him go.
Raven
The cold night air bit at my face as I soared over the rugged landscape on my sky cycle, its quiet hum barely audible above the wind. Below, the forest stretched in dark, undulating waves, broken only by rocky outcrops and a winding river that glistened under the moonlight.
It didn’t take long to locate the labor camp.Jenkins’s men hadn’t exactly hidden it. Why should they? Not many in this territory had sky cycles or hovercraft of any kind, so they didn't have to worry about being spotted. From my vantage point, I counted at least ten guards patrolling the perimeter—more than I’d hoped for, but not impossible. What worried me were the prisoners.
While I couldn’t see them because they were asleep in the bunkhouse, I scanned them. They weren’t in good shape, underfed and overworked, beaten into submission. I knew I could not delay getting them out of there.
Zach had to be among them.
I circled once more, mentally mapping out the weak spots. The southeast corner of the fence had a blind spot where the patrols barely passed. That would be the entry point. But getting thirty malnourished captives out of here wouldn’t be easy.
I needed help, and I knew the displaced ranchers couldn't help me with this.
Reluctantly, I turned away, banking the sky cycle north. My mind raced through options, calculating risks, but something caught my eye—a flicker of light isolated deep in the mountains. It was a small thing, a subtle glow barely visible through the thick canopy of trees.It wasn’t a campfire but something controlled.
Curious, I adjusted the course and brought the sky cycle lower, skimming over the treetops. The source of the light was a hidden structure, a cabin nestled in a secluded valley. From this distance, it seemed occupied but quiet.
I cut the engine and glided downward, landing some distance away before proceeding on foot. My enhanced vision let me navigate easily through the undergrowth. As I crept closer, I heard two voices, one a female speaking English.
I crouched silently in the shadows outside the cabin, my enhanced senses picking up this soft murmur of voices inside. The structure was modest but well-kept, a stark contrast to the harsh survivalist reality outside. Whoever lived here had made it a home, a haven in the wilderness.
Through a crack in the shuttered window, I saw a woman seated near the fire, her face bathed in the warm glow of the flickering flames. A massive alien stood beside her with a cup in his clawed hand, but he seemed content in her presence.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, breaking the quiet. She gestured to the one repaired chair she was sitting on and thento the freshly patched coat draped over a nearby hook. “I don’t expect you to take care of me.”
The Mesaarkan exhaled, his mandibles twitching slightly. “I know you do not expect it, but I want to. The female looked up at him, surprise flickering across for lovely features. “Why?”
The alien hesitated; his gaze fixed on the fire as if searching its depths for the right words. At last, he turned to her, his expression softer than I’d ever seen on a ‘Saark. “You are unlike anyone I have known, Ava,” he said quietly. “You speak to me without fear, without deference… and you challenge me.” A flicker of something warm passed through his eyes—something almost tender. His mouth curved slightly, the Mesaarkan’s version of a smile. “I find that I… like it. I like you.”
