text: “So what do you think?” Madeline asked. Billie shifted beside her, making the cushions beneath them slide against the flagstone of the church floor. They slid their arm out from around her shoulder to prop themself up, looking down at her as they said, “I think it’s natural that you don’t want to give up.” Madeline waited for more of an answer, but none came. “So... you don’t think there’s a chance?” she asked. “I didn’t say that. I just... I wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.” “And what about your hopes? What about your brother?” “There are still places we haven’t looked. We don’t know that he’s--” “I think we’ve both known for a long time that we weren’t going to find them -- Liam *or* Joe. I just don’t think either of us wanted to admit it.” Billie sighed and slumped back onto the floor. “You’re probably right there.” Now, it was Madeline’s turn to prop herself up on an elbow, looking down at her friend. “But that doesn’t mean we have to give up. The chances are, the Poiloogs have them both. So all we’ve got to do is find out where they take the humans they capture, then get them back.” “That’s all, is it?” Billie scoffed. “I know it won’t be easy, but together -- maybe with help from your friends -- we can at least try.” “You don’t think they haven’t tried before?” Billie replied, a hint of scorn entering their voice. It was the first time Madeline had heard that tone from them, and it delivered the words like a punch to the stomach. “I wasn’t around when it happened, but I know that that was one of the first things the group tried. They lost a lot of people.” “So what? That’s it? They failed once and now they’ll never try again? They’re not much of a resistance, are they?! What are they doing to actually resist?” The cushions slid every which way as Billie scrambled to their feet. “I keep telling you not to call them that,” they said through gritted teeth. Madeline hurried to stand too. “I’m sorry, I just--” “And what do you know about what we do? You’ve been to one meeting.” “I know, but--” “Do you know what some of those people have done? What they’ve been through? Sometimes just *living* in this world is resistance enough!” “And how am I meant to know any of that if you don’t tell me?” Madeline shouted. But the loudness couldn’t disguise the tremble in her voice. “*You* were the one being all secretive!” She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, before continuing at a more normal volume. “Look, I’m sorry I upset you. Can we just talk about this? If there are things I should know, I’d like to know them.” Billie looked up, meeting her gaze for a second before turning away. “I... I can’t right now. I’ll see you later Madeline.” She watched as they strode away, footsteps on the stone floor echoing off the walls. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to call out, but the words wouldn’t come. And though she yearned to chase after them, her feet remained rooted to the sport. When they were gone, Madeline slumped back down onto the cushions. She brought her knees into her chest and hugged them tight as she let out a silent scream. But it did nothing to alleviate the pain inside. \ That night, as Madeline lay in bed, she stared at the walkie-talkie until there wasn’t enough light to stare anymore. She must have thought about reaching out and grabbing it more than a hundred times. But each time something stopped her. The look that had been in Billie’s eyes. That edge that had entered their voice. The way they’d walked away and left her there -- alone with her grief. Still, she hoped the decision would be made for her. That she’d hear that familiar hiss of static followed by their voice. But it never came. She must have fallen asleep at some point because she woke the next day when the sun’s rays crept through the curtains and tickled at her eyelids. With that hollow ache still ever present in her chest, she forced herself to push past it. To take a deep breath, stretch, and climb out of bed. Once she’d managed that gargantuan task, she let her churning stomach lead her down to the kitchen. After a quick breakfast, she stepped out into the garden to wash, using as little water as she could. Every morning she missed her set-up at the library. Her water butts, her stove, her books. But thinking about that only served to splinter the shards of her heart even more. Then, with her only tasks for the day complete and no Billie to distract her, Madeline was at a loss. The idea of being alone with her thoughts was not an appealing one, so, for want of anything better to do, she decided to go looking for supplies. There were still houses in the area that she hadn’t searched yet and the hotplate Billie’s group had given her opened up some new possibilities for food. Her mind made up, Madeline grabbed her bag, tucked her book under her arm, and headed out the door. \ She returned home with a full bag and a full mind. The routine run, with no surprise incidents or encounters, had provided little distraction from her thoughts. She spent the rest of the day flitting from activity to activity, unable to settle. Working out in the garden only took her mind back to Billie. Reading triggered painful memories of Liam. None of her usual distractions worked. In the end, she went to bed early, hoping to speed the passage of time with sleep. Instead, she passed a frustrating night staring at the ceiling. She was sure she must have drifted in and out of sleep at some point, but she certainly didn’t feel rested. When dawn came around, she’d made up her mind. She couldn’t go on like this. The emptiness was starting to settle in, clawing out from the jagged hole in her chest. It was too much to bear. She reached out and picked up the walkie-talkie. But before she could press the button, there was a knock at the door. She froze, halfway to completing the motion. Shaking herself out of it, she dashed downstairs, stumbling on the stairs in her hurry. Without even pausing to check who was there, she swung the door wide open. Billie looked back at her, red eyes staring out of an ashed face. Their gaze flicked to the walkie-talkie Madeline still held in her hand and a pained expression flashed across their face. “I’m *so* sorry,” they whispered, voice cracking slightly. Madeline tried to swallow the lump in her throat -- tried to blink back the tears. But it was in vain. She dived forward, throwing her arms around her friend. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m the one that should be sorry. You’ve done so much--” “Sshhh,” Billie murmured, reaching up to stroke her hair. “You don’t owe me anything.” “Maybe not. But I shouldn’t have--” “And I shouldn’t have either. Let’s leave it at that.” “So we’re okay?” Madeline asked, leaning back to get a look at their face. They dipped their chin, trying to hide the tears that streamed down their cheeks. It made her heart wrench to see them like this. But a small smile playing at their lips alleviated the pain slightly. With a sniff, they lifted their eyes to meet hers. “We’re okay,” they confirmed. “More than okay.” Madeline buried her face in the crook between their neck and their shoulder once again. “Good,” she mumbled. After another long moment holding tight to each other, Billie loosened their grip. Madeline looked up to see a frown furrowing their brow. “What is it?” she asked. “I don’t want to restart anything. But I just wanted to say: you were right.” “I was? That doesn’t sound likely,” she said with a playful smile. “No, I’m serious. I’ve thought about it a lot and you were right. About Joe and Liam. About where they are. And about what we should do.” “And what’s that?” “Rescue them.