A new energy crackled over the radio, replacing the hushed, terrified whispers of the past few days. It wasn't that the fear was gone—it was still there, a cold, heavy stone in Alex's gut—but it now had a direction. His declaration to fight back had flipped a switch in both of them. Hope, he realized was a form of defiance.
"Okay," Elara said, her voice clear and focused. "Okay, let's work the problem. What do we have? Let's take a full inventory. Everything."
For the next hour, they became battlefield commanders, their towers their respective headquarters. They cataloged every single item they had, searching for anything that could be turned into a weapon or a defense. The list was grimly short.
Alex had his firewood axe, heavy and sharp. He had the flare gun with six shells. He had two large canisters of propane for his stove, a full can of lantern oil, and a box of thick long-burning matches.
Elara's inventory was similar, with one addition. "I have about fifty feet of climbing rope," she said. "From a few years ago when I thought I was going to be an adventurous rock climber."
They were two people armed with camping supplies against a monster. It was almost laughable, but it was all they had.
"The main weakness is the stairs," Alex stated, pacing his cabin again. This time, his steps weren't born from anxiety, but from intense concentration. "The trapdoor is the only way in. If it gets through that, it's over.
"So we make the door stronger," Elara said. "What's the heaviest thing you have up there?"
"My footlocker," he answered immediately. "It's full of books. Must weight a hundred pounds. And the wood stove, but it's bolted down."
"Okay, when night falls, you move the footlocker on top of the door," she instructed. "It won't stop it forever, but it'll slow it down. I'll make noise. It'll buy you time."
Time to do what? The unspoken question hung in the air. Time to use the axe? Time to fire a flare into a wooden room?
"What about the stairs themselves?" Alex asked, trying to push the grim thought away. "It touched them last night. It knows the way up."
"Can you see the whole staircase from your window?"
Alex moved to the south-facing window. "Yeah, almost all of it."
"Okay, here's an idea," Elara said, a spark of ingenuity in her voice. "Your lantern oil. If it gets on the stairs, you could light it up. With the flare gun."
Alex's eyes widened. He looked at the can of oil on his shelf, then at the flare gun on his desk. A wall of fire. A hundred-foot chimney of flame roaring up the side of his tower. It was terrifying, insane, and brilliant idea. It was a suicide mission for the creature, but it could also easily set the whole tower, and maybe the forest, on fire.
"It's a last resort," he said, his voice low. "A 'break glass in case of Aramageddon' kind of plan."
"That's what this is, Alex," she replied softly.
The sun began its descent, bleeding colors of orange and pink across the western sky. The beauty of the sunset felt like a mockery. As darkness approached, they finalized their plan. Alex would move the heavy footlocker onto the trapdoor. He would keep the axe and the flare gun within arm's reach. He would sit, and he would watch the stairs.
"I wish I was there," Elara said, her voice losing its commander—like edge and becoming soft and personal again. "It's not right that you have to face this alone."
"I'm not alone," Alex said, looking at the small, handheld radio on his desk. "I've got you."
The sincerity of his own words surprised him. A few weeks ago, he had come to this forest seeking absolute solitude. Now, the thought of being truly alone, without her voice to cut through the darkness, was more terrifying than any monster.
He dragged the heavy footlocker across the floor, scraping sound loud in the quiet room, and positioned it over the trapdoor. He checked the flare gun, making sure a shell was loaded. He leaned the axe against a wall next to his chair. There was nothing left to do.
He sat down, turned his chair to face the south window, and picked up his binoculars. The forest was sinking into deep shadow. The waiting had begun. The creature had made a promise, and Alex had a horrifying feeling it was the kind to keep it.