The stupid desert stretches out as far as I can see. The reddish sand sparkles under the double suns.

They're gone. All of them, gone. Cold tendrils wind their way from my core to my limbs. The tears have stopped, at last, but my eyes and face still feel puffy and sore.

I should have been here.

A hot wind blows, shifting the sands. Each grain moves in slow motion, crawling along, swirling and dancing.

They're gone, all my friends, gone.

It pounds in my head over and over. Gone, gone, gone.

If I'd been here… what? I'd have done what? Nothing, except get captured or killed too.

Shaking my head at my foolishness I kneel and take two handfuls of sand then watch as it streams between my fingers. Like sands through an hourglass… these are the days of our lives. I snort at my stupidity. My life maybe but theirs are over.

The ones who dies are probably the lucky ones, the rest will be sold into slavery. Just when I think this world has gotten as absolutely shitty as it possibly could, it finds a new way to be even shittier.

"Damn it!" Lana yells, pulling my attention out of the black morass of my thoughts.

Rising, I turn and realize for the first time how far from the group I've wandered. Lana is gesturing wildly, Astarot and Visidion stand next to her. Ragnar is walking away from the group and the other two hunters are with him. It doesn't take any special insight to see what's going on. Ragnar hasn't wanted to make this trip from the beginning. It was his opinion we should stay at the Valley and mount a defense against the pirates.

Ragnar and the hunters have gone quite a ways into the desert already. Lana and the two Zmaj with her argue with each other while Ragnar and his group increase their distance. I should help.

What can I do? Nothing. I can do nothing.

No, that's stupid. Do I give in to despair? Is that the girl my momma raised? Give up because things have gotten hard?

It'd be easier. A deep lethargic urge to just not move pulls me down, roots me in place. So easy to just stay right here, wallowing in the loss of everyone.

Again.

That's the worst part, we lost everything when the ship crashed. Friends, family, all my family gone. Co-workers, life as we knew it, gone. You think you know where your life is going then pirates attack and rip those expectations away. The smoke and screams as my world turned upside down then sped towards this shit-snack of a planet.

This is survival. Pure and simple. All complexities get washed away when it takes all you've got to make sure you'll be alive in the next moment, the next hour. When not seeing the suns rise the next day becomes a very real possibility, it strips you down to the core of yourself.

If I will continue to survive, I can't let myself fall into the dark well of hopelessness that wants to claim me. It's there, I can't deny it, all those feelings are real but I have to get in motion. Start somewhere, put one foot in front of the other.

Slow exhale as I walk. Maybe I can help. Doing what I have no idea, but I have to try. It's an act of will to force myself to keep moving. Each step though becomes easier. The black despair is there, waiting, pulling me down with clinging fingers that don't want to let go but I can't give in.

Lana says something and then points at the fading forms of Ragnar and the hunters.

Following her finger I see that a handful of the other Zmaj have joined them.

Visidion replies then Astarot says something. Damn I wish I knew their language. Astarot stares at their retreating backs, his tail shifts side to side with nervous agitation.

"Maybe I can help?" I say, walking up.

"How?" Lana asks.

"Uh, I don't know," I say, blushing as self-consciousness rushes over me.

The black despair returns like a tidal wave, the current of it pulling me down. Tears swell as I struggle to breathe. My chest constricts, my stomach knots with churning acid and I'm sure I will pass out. The faces of my friends and my family swim before my eyes.

No.

I'm not going to give in. I'm alive, I'm here. I can help, damn it I can do this! Closing my eyes tight to hold back my tears, I take a deep breath. Something touches my arm, when I open my eyes Lana is there, her grip firm on my arm. We stare into each other's eyes and in her I find strength. I lost a lot, but it's not over and I'm not done.

"Ragnar, I can talk to him," I say.

The two Zmaj stare at us, causing me a flash of discomfort but that's just as ridiculous as letting my emotions overwhelm me. There are over a dozen Zmaj and a small handful of women milling around. What are we going to do? Sit here and wait for the pirates to take us too?

Lana translates to Astarot and Visidion. They three of them go back and forth. Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I wait for them to reach an agreement. I stare across the desert at Ragnar's retreating form. He stops and looks back and I know, deep in my heart, he's looking at me. The distance is too great for me to see him as more than an indistinct blob but I'm certain.

"Okay," Lana says.

"Huh?" I ask, my attention jerking back.

"Okay," she says. "No one has a better idea. We're counting on you. We need them."

"Yeah, okay," I say, butterflies dancing a minuet in my stomach.

No pressure Olivia, they're just all counting on you.

"Everybody!" Lana yells, then says what I assume is the same thing in Zmaj. "Please load on the transport."

"Why?" Delilah asks. "What the hell's the point?"

"Where are they going?" Penelope asks, pointing at the dim figures on the horizon.

"We're going to handle that," Lana says. "Let's get moving."

The Zmaj look at Visidion and the human women look at each other but no one jumps into motion. Lana's face flushes pink then deep red. She purses her lips and balls her hands into fists.

"Hey," I say, no idea what I'm doing. "I know. This is… awful. Trust me, I feel it too. What are we going to do though? Stand here? Wait for the pirates to come take us? Look, we don't have many options. The best thing I can see right now is for us to join up with the other survivors. Maybe, and I know this is a long shot, but maybe we can help our friends. If we stay here that ain't happening."

Certainty fills me as I speak. I hadn't thought out what I would say before I said it. The words spilled out of my mouth almost like they were coming from someone else, but the moment I said them they were true. True for me at least. Maybe we can save them. At least in moving forward there's hope.

The women mutter and nod then they move onto the transport. Visidion says something, then Lana replies in the Zmaj language, but the Zmaj men are already following the women onto the transport. It takes time for us to all get on. Even with Ragnar and his followers gone we're packed tight.

The transport rumbles then lifts and we're in motion. Since it's designed for transporting slaves, there is no comfort. No windows, no air, just a dark box and the press of bodies against each other. I miss Ragnar being here.

Why did he leave me?

Self-doubt rears its ugly head again.

I'm being ridiculous. The least I can do is help. The transport bumps and rumbles causing us all to shift.

"Oh!" someone cries out as it lunges violently again.

The sound of metal on metal screeches through the small space, then the transport jerks and I'm smashed against the wall. The floor shifts and I slam side to side. A scream slips out then the world flips.

I can't tell up from down.

My head cracks against something, stars swim in my vision.

I'm being crushed. Can't breathe.

Moaning, screams, tears, need air.

The blackness is as crushing as the bodies pressed against me.

"Anyone hurt?" someone asks.

"Yes," someone else cries.

I try to respond but I can't get enough air. Gasping, trying to inhale, my chest is being crushed. It's impossible. Awareness is fading, pulling me down.

Something is pounding, louder than the moans. Bodies shift and a quick breath of air fills my lungs bringing sweet relief. Another shift and the crushing weight returns. Someone is crying, I'm sure it's not me, I don't have enough air for tears.

Light! Bright, searing white, it burns into my eyes.

"OLIVIA!"