xxiv. Panic

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Michael wasn't exactly sure what their battle plan was. It involved teams of three, which he knew because he was thrown in with Paul and Rose. And it also involved a Plan B, which was charge and scream and act more frightening than they actually are. He hopes the first plan works, despite not understanding it completely. It's better than a suicide mission. They were heading back to Pyllagement now.

It was a faster march than on their way to Kirstai, because they were no longer on the lookout for survivors. They had them all, now. They were, however, on the lookout for Pyllagement. It wasn't a specific thing outlined for them all – to look out for Pyllagement troops – but it certainly was implied. He could feel the tension and fear in the air. "Are you okay?" Rose whispers. There's a gentle murmur going around their group, as everyone tries to distract themselves or reassure themselves that everything is going to be alright.

"I'm fine," he whispers in response.

"Are you sure?" she pesters, looping her arm around his. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jumpers. He's only showing slight hints of a limp. And his eyes have adjusted slightly without his glasses, after having travelled this whole way without them already. He lost them in Pyllagement at some point. He looks down at her, tendrils of his hair fluttering over his eyes. She's smiling at him, her beautiful, peaceful smile.

"I'm scared we'll be too late," he says, his voice quiet and raspy. He looks away from her, and he can tell she doesn't know what to say. It's been his fear this whole time, that even if they get there – they'll be too late to save them. His family. His friends. He feels her head rest against his arm as they continue to walk. She grips his arm tighter against her own, raising her other arm to place her hand on his bare skin.

"I'm scared we'll find them not dead... but worse." Now Michael is at a loss for words, watching his feet move along the dirt floor. He knows what she means. Seeing the people they love lost in a world of pain, insanity and torture. He imagines Autumn, looking into his eyes but not recognising him. Just crying out in pain.

"They're strong," he manages, kissing her hair. She pulls away from him then, still walking beside him. She sighs.

"But he's stronger," she retorts. "He's got hundreds of men backing him up." He looks over at her. Her hands are mimicking his, in the pockets of her cargo pants. Her hair is pulled from her face in a long ponytail cascading down her back, like an avalanche of snow. There's streaks of brown through her hair, due to the dirt she's slept on. Her eyes are glistening green, the sunlight coming from the trees making them shine brighter than before. Her lips are curved into a frown, but he knows she's not mad at him.

He wraps an arm around her as he says, "They're smarter, though. I know they are. He's a downright idiot, but our guys – they're smart." He feels weird having to reassure her. This whole time she's been so strong, even cracking jokes and laughing like crazy. Distracting herself.

"You're so ignorant," she snaps, pulling his arm off of her, folding her arms across her chest with a huff. He frowns at her, not knowing exactly what he did wrong. Until she explains, and he realises how little hope she actually has in those that they love so dearly. "He's constructing something that will potentially wipe out this world as we know it. He's planning world domination. If that's not smart, I'm not quite sure what is."

"Have a little faith in them, Rose," he spits, annoyed. He shakes his head at her, disbelief evident in his expression. "You know them. You know your sister, you know mine. You know Jarrett. Even Ley. They're brilliant. And they will be fine." He knows she wants to yell at him, but Paul interrupts, tapping him on the shoulder with a worried expression.

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