The roar of the starship’s engines was deafening, drowning out the heavy breathing of the prisoners strapped into their pods. Snow King sat motionless, his hands gripping the metal armrests as the countdown echoed through the chamber.
“Final checks complete. Pod deployment in T-minus 30 seconds.”
The voice over the intercom was cold, automated, devoid of humanity, just like the system that had sent him here. Snow stared straight ahead, past the reinforced glass of his helmet, at the dull gray interior of the starship’s cargo bay. This was it. No turning back now.
He glanced at the monitor in front of him, which displayed the brutal, swirling storms of Cell 0 below. The planet looked alive, a writhing mass of chaos waiting to swallow them whole.
“Officer!” A voice crackled through the comm system in his pod, and Snow’s chest tightened. “Recognize my voice? It’s your girl from last night.”
A slow smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth despite the situation. “Alaiah, right? The one with the questions?”
“Damn straight,” came the reply, laced with a New York accent that carried equal parts attitude and amusement. “I was just tryna help you prep for this hellhole. Figured you’d need all the advice you could get, rookie.”
“Appreciate it,” Snow muttered, though his tone held a hint of dry humor. “Guess we’re all rookies down there.”
“Nah,” Alaiah shot back. “Some of us are survivors. You? The jury’s still out.”
Before Snow could respond, the ship jolted violently, and the restraints tightened across his chest. His heart slammed against his ribs as the automated voice returned.
“Pod deployment commencing in five… four…”
Snow took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. Beside him, he could see the other pods through his peripheral vision, rows of orange jumpsuits encased in steel capsules, each prisoner hurtling toward an uncertain fate.
“Three… two…”
“Better land on your feet, officer,” Alaiah’s voice quipped one last time. “Ain’t no second chances.”
“One.”
The floor beneath him gave way, and the pod shot into freefall. The sensation was like having the ground ripped out from under him, his stomach lurching as he hurtled toward the surface of Cell 0. The air outside was a blur of fire and smoke as the atmosphere burned against the pod’s exterior.
The descent was brutal, the pod rattling and shaking as it plummeted through layers of ash-laden clouds. Snow could feel the heat even through the thick insulation, a stark reminder of the planet’s unforgiving nature.
Suddenly, the pod slammed into the ground with bone-jarring force. Snow’s head snapped forward, and he clenched his teeth, his vision swimming. Alarms blared, and the restraints released with a hiss, freeing him to move.
But there was no time to recover.
The moment the hatch hissed open, a cacophony of unearthly shrieks filled the air. Snow stumbled out into the chaos, the scorched earth beneath his boots still radiating heat. The sky was an angry red, the sun blazing down like a furnace. Shadows moved in the distance, hulking, monstrous shapes that defied reason.
And they were coming.
“Move, dammit!” a voice yelled nearby. Snow turned to see a wiry man, Milo Kane, scrambling out of his pod, his eyes wide with panic. “They’re already here!”
Snow didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the first thing he could, a jagged piece of metal from the pod, and sprinted toward the nearest cover. Other prisoners were doing the same, scattering like prey under the gaze of a predator. Some were torn to pieces just as their pods opened up. Cries and screams filled the panicked thick air as men were taken on all sides of him. But he kept running.
A few yards away, Alaiah was already on her feet, her braids whipping around her face as she barked orders. “Over here! I see somethin’ up ahead!”
Snow followed her gaze and spotted the wreckage of an old starship partially buried in the sand. It was massive, its hull scorched and broken, but it offered the only hope of shelter.
The group converged on the wreckage, their movements frantic as the sounds of pursuit grew louder. Snow could feel the ground vibrating beneath him, the creatures closing in fast. By the time they reached the ship, the first of the beasts had gotten close to them, a hulking, four-legged monstrosity with too many teeth and eyes that glowed with hunger.
“Get inside!” Snow shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. He shoved a smaller prisoner through the jagged opening of the ship’s hull. The others followed in quick succession, scrambling over twisted metal and debris.
As Snow hauled himself inside pressing a button to slam the heavy door, he turned to see Alaiah standing in the entryway, her arms crossed. “Took ya long enough,” she muttered, though the edge in her voice was softened by a faint smile.
“Thanks for waiting,” Snow said, his tone dry as he slammed a piece of debris in front of the door, securing it.
The interior of the ship was dark, the air thick with dust and decay. Snow’s breathing was heavy as he leaned against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest. Around him, the others were catching their breath, their faces pale and drenched in sweat.
Alaiah turned to Snow breaking the silence. “Alright, listen up. Ain’t none of us gonna survive if we don’t get our heads on straight. This place? It’s a death trap. And those things outside?” She pointed toward the sealed entryway. “They ain’t gonna stop comin’.”
Snow nodded, his gaze moving over the group. Milo was muttering to himself, while Jax Harlow leaned against a wall, his eyes scanning the room. Ezra Cross was silent, his posture rigid, while Riley Bishop crouched in a corner, her hands shaking.
The oppressive silence inside the downed starship was broken only by the heavy breathing of the survivors. The group huddled in the dim, dusty interior, their faces lit by faint streaks of sunlight piercing through the cracks in the hull. Snow leaned against a crumpled wall, surveying the group. These people, all strangers, were thrown together in the worst place imaginable.
She was right. They wouldn’t last long this way.
“All right first things first,” Snow said, his voice steady but firm. “If we’re gonna survive out here, we need to stick together. No lone wolves, no going off on your own.”
Milo Kane scoffed from the corner, brushing dirt off his jumpsuit. “Yeah? And who put you in charge?”
Snow ignored him and pressed on. “We need to know we can trust each other and what we are all capable of. That starts with honesty. No secrets, no lies. If we’re gonna make it through this, we need to know who we’re dealing with.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of his words settling over them.
“Honesty?” Jax Harlow sneered, arms crossed as he leaned against a broken console. “On Cell 0? That’s rich.”
“It’s necessary,” Snow replied sharply. “You don’t trust the person next to you, you’re dead. It’s that simple.”
Alaiah stepped forward, her hands planted on her hips. “Fine. I’ll go first. My name’s Alaiah. I’m from Queens, baby, and yeah, I’m ghetto, so don’t even try me.” Her New York accent cut through the tension like a whip, but her tone was laced with a surprising warmth. “I got sent here for knowing too much about this place and stealin’ information, files, and a couple of cars. Cops said I boosted 3 before they caught me, but trust me, it was way more.” She smirked, her dark eyes glinting. “Ain’t nobody quicker than me behind the wheel.”
Jax laughed. “Cars and papers? That’s cute. I’m Jax Harlow. My thing’s… let’s say... alternative financing.”
“Speak English,” Alaiah shot back.
“Fine,” Jax replied with a sly grin. “Armed robbery. Banks, armored cars, big-ticket stuff. It was going great till my crew decided I was expendable. Long story short, here I am.”
Milo Kane stepped forward next, nervously adjusting the collar of his jumpsuit. “Uh, Milo Kane. Con artist. I, uh, might’ve swindled some high-ranking officials out of a lot of money. And by ‘a lot,’ I mean… millions.”
“Good to know,” Snow muttered. “Who’s next?”
The wiry man in the corner raised a hand. “Ezra Cross. I don’t talk about what I did.” His tone was flat, his gaze unwavering.
“Not how this works,” Snow said.
Ezra’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more. Snow let it go, for now.
The girl crouched in the shadows, Riley Bishop, hesitated. “Riley,” she said quietly. “Hacking. Stole classified government data and codes. I’m not proud of it, but… here I am.”
Jax snorted. “Great, we got a nerd.”
“Enough,” Snow barked, silencing the chatter. His gaze shifted to the tall, broad-shouldered man sitting apart from the group. “You?”
“Call me Tobias,” the man said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I used to be a bounty hunter. Took some jobs that got me on the wrong side of the law. Guess that makes me a criminal now.”
All eyes turned to Snow as he was next in line. He hesitated, feeling the weight of their stares.
“Name’s Snow King,” he began. “I was an officer—”
The room erupted.
“Hold up,” Jax snarled, stepping forward. “Did you just say cop?”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Milo hissed. “They sent a cop here?”
Ezra’s steely gaze darkened, and Riley shifted nervously, her arms wrapping around herself. Even Tobias, who had remained calm, frowned deeply.
“Aight, chill!” Alaiah’s sharp voice cut through the rising tension. She stepped between Snow and the others, her hands up. “Everybody calm the hell down.”
“Calm down?” Jax snapped. “He’s a cop. They’re the reason most of us are in here.”
“Y’all really wanna waste your energy on this?” Alaiah shot back, glaring at the group. “We just touched down on a damn planet full of monsters, and y’all wanna play the blame game? Nah. We don’t got time for that.”
“He’s the enemy,” Milo muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.
“You a corrupt governor what the hell you talkin' about?” Alaiah turned on him, her voice rising. “The enemy’s out there, dumbass. Big teeth, claws, probably lookin’ to have yo fat ass for dinner right now. Snow ain’t your enemy unless you make him one.”
Snow stepped forward, his hands raised. “Listen,” he said evenly, meeting each of their eyes. “I get it. I’m not your favorite person right now. But I’m not here to play cop, and I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m here to survive, same as you.”
Jax folded his arms, unconvinced as he smacked loudly on gum. “And why should we trust you, bro? For all I know you're the one who signed my conviction papers?”
“You don’t have to,” Snow admitted. “But if we don’t stick together, none of us are getting off this planet alive. We can all at least agree on that right?”
The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. Finally, Tobias spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet. “He’s right. We don’t have to like each other, but we do need each other.”
Riley, whom Snow had saved earlier, nodded hesitantly, and even Ezra gave a small, reluctant tilt of his head.
“Good,” Snow said, his voice steady. “Now let’s figure out our next move. The sun’ll be up soon, and from what I’ve heard, we don’t want to be outside when that happens.”
Alaiah smirked and crossed her arms. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now, y’all done actin’ stupid, or we gotta go through this again?”
The tension in the room broke slightly, a few nervous chuckles escaping as the group settled. Snow met Alaiah’s gaze and gave her a small nod of thanks. She winked, her tough exterior briefly softening.
The tension in the room simmered, but Snow wasn’t satisfied yet. He turned his gaze to the three remaining figures who hadn’t spoken.
“You three,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “If we’re sticking together, everyone needs to talk. No one sits this out.”
Cassidy Drake, the fiery redhead with a wild look in her green eyes, stepped forward. Her arms were crossed, and her body language screamed defiance, but her voice was surprisingly even. “Fine. Cassidy Drake. Most people call me Cass. Got sent here for attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon.” She shrugged, her tone casual. “Guy deserved it. Broke a bottle over his head after he tried to steal all the stuff in my apartment. Kept hitting him till he didn't move anymore, and well, here I am.”
“Sounds like you’re a charmer,” Jax said with a smirk clearly intrigued.
Cass shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “Say that again, and I’ll show you exactly how charming I can be.”
“Let’s keep the threats to a minimum,” Snow interjected quickly before things escalated. He looked at Valencia, who had been leaning quietly against a wall, observing.
The tall, dark-haired woman sighed and uncrossed her arms. “Valencia Gray,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “They call me Val. I was a survivalist, lived off the grid most of my life. They threw me in here for smuggling and resisting arrest. Guess they don’t like people who know how to take care of themselves.”
“Smuggling what?” Milo asked, intrigued.
“Whatever paid the most,” Val replied with a smirk. “Doesn’t matter now.”
Finally, all eyes turned to the last member of the group. Deacon Shaw, the wiry man with piercing eyes and an unnervingly calm demeanor, took his time before speaking. When he did, his voice was slow and deliberate. “Name’s Deacon Shaw,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Used to be a preacher.”
Alaiah snorted. “A preacher? What you do, steal from the collection plate?”
Deacon’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing so big. They said I ran a cult. Called it manipulation, fraud, coercion. But all I ever did was give people something to believe in. People ain't all that into religion no more.”
Cass rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. We got ourselves a preacher yay.”
“Careful,” Deacon replied smoothly, his tone almost playful. “You might find I’m the most useful person here before long. God don't like ugly.”
Snow stepped in before things spiraled. “All right. Everyone’s had their say. Now we know what we’re working with.”
“Yeah,” Jax muttered, his eyes flicking toward Snow. “A cop, a cult leader, and a bunch of criminals. Real dream team.”
“You got something better?” Alaiah shot back, her New York accent cutting through the tension. “’Cause unless you wanna walk out there and get eaten, this is what you got.”
“Exactly,” Snow said, taking control again. “We’re not gonna get anywhere if we start tearing each other apart now. Whatever we’ve done, whatever we think of each other, none of it matters if we don’t survive.”
“Easy for you to say, officer,” Milo muttered.
“It’s not about me,” Snow said firmly. “It’s about all of us. We’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”
A heavy silence settled over the group, broken only by the faint, eerie sounds of the planet outside. Finally, Val spoke, her tone pragmatic. “So, what’s the plan? Because staying here forever isn’t an option.”
“We rest, for now, lay low till they calm down or leave,” Snow said. “Figure out when it’s safe to move. But first things first: we work as a team. That means no lying, no secrets, and no wandering off alone. Got it?”
Grudging nods rippled through the group, though the tension was far from gone.
Alaiah clapped her hands together. “Aight, so we all clear now? Good. ’Cause I ain’t tryna die on my first night here. And trust me, y’all don’t wanna see me mad.”
Her words lightened the mood slightly, drawing a few smirks and chuckles. Snow gave her a grateful glance. She had a way of cutting through the tension that he was quickly coming to appreciate.
Snow stood at the edge of the dimly lit central chamber, staring out at the group as they tried to settle and wait for the roaring and scratching to calm down outside. Most had found corners to claim as their own, though none seemed at ease. It was getting late now and still, they heard them.
He turned to Alaiah, who was leaning against a rusted panel, her arms crossed and her sharp eyes scanning the room. “We need to see if there’s anything useful in this heap. Supplies, weapons, anything.”
Alaiah tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look. “You mean we, as in both of us need to see. Not just me while you play hero and let my ass get eaten alive.”
Snow managed a small smirk. “Yeah, we, smart ass. Let’s move.”
She pushed off the wall and fell into step beside him. As they made their way toward the starship’s shadowy corridors, she nudged his arm. “Hey, don’t forget, I was the one talkin’ you through the worst of it last night. You owe me.”
He glanced at her. “ I remember. Kept me from losing my mind.”
“Damn right.” She grinned, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Now, let’s see if this bucket of bolts has anything worth not dyin’ for.”
The corridors stretched ahead of them like the veins of a dead beast, narrow and winding. Every step they took echoed ominously, and the weak emergency lights flickered in erratic bursts, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
“You ever think about how many people died in this thing?” Alaiah asked, her voice low but still carrying that New York edge.
“More than I want to,” Snow replied, shining a small flashlight he’d taken from one of the lockers. “But if they left anything behind, it’s ours now.”
They passed through what looked like an old mess hall, the tables overturned and the chairs scattered. Alaiah stopped, crouching by a pile of debris. She shifted through it, her hands moving quickly but carefully, until she pulled out a metal rod, about the length of her forearm.
“Not exactly a gun, but it’ll do.” She swung it experimentally, the clang echoing through the corridor.
Snow glanced at it. “You could probably do some damage with that.”
“Baby, I will do some damage with this.” She gave him a wink before moving on.
Deeper into the ship, the air grew colder, and the smell of decay thickened. Snow stopped at a partially open door marked Armory. His heart quickened as he gestured for Alaiah to cover him.
“Think this is our lucky break?” she whispered, gripping her makeshift weapon.
“Only one way to find out.” Snow pushed against the door, using his shoulder to force it open with a grating screech.
Inside, the room was in chaos. Weapon racks had been torn from the walls, and most of the contents were missing. Still, they carefully picked their way through the room, scanning for anything left behind.
Alaiah let out a low whistle and crouched by a crate. She pried it open and pulled out a small, dull blade. “Ain’t much, but it’s somethin’.”
Snow found a utility belt with a rusted holster and a flashlight. The belt was worn, but it might be useful. “We’ll take whatever we can get,” he said, securing it around his waist.
After another few minutes of searching, Alaiah leaned against the wall, her breath visible in the cold air. “So, what’s the plan, Officer Snow? You gonna lead this ragtag crew to freedom, or we just tryin’ not to get eaten by somethin’ first?”
He leaned against the opposite wall, meeting her gaze. “Freedom’s a long way off. Survival comes first. But if we don’t work together, none of us are making it out alive.”
Alaiah’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “You got that leader vibe, y’know. Even if half those fools out there hate your guts.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Snow said, standing up straight. “We’d better get back before they start tearing each other apart.”
As they retraced their steps through the labyrinthine corridors, Alaiah glanced at him. “You know they’re still gonna give you hell for bein’ a cop, right?”
“I know.”
“Well, good thing you got me to watch your back.”
Snow gave her a sidelong look. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Alaiah chuckled. “You’d better. ’Cause if you go down, it’s gonna take more than a rusty knife and a rod to keep me alive out here.”
Snow’s lips curved into a small smile. For the first time since waking up in this nightmare, he felt a spark of hope. Small, but real. Alaiah although rough, was a comfort to his heart and mind. Comfort he hadn’t had for years since his trial started. He paused a moment thinking about Cassandra. He must of drifted something deep because the next thing he heard was the sound of snapping fingers bringing him back into his harsh reality.
“ Aye, where you at focus boy.”
Snow looked up at Alaiah who looked very worried. “You ok officer?”
“ I’m fine, just, listening to what’s around us. It’s fine, shall we move on?”
The faint metallic taste of recycled air clung to Snow’s tongue as he and Alaiah moved deeper into the ship, the shadows seeming to stretch endlessly around them. Every creak of the vessel made them pause, alert for any signs of danger.
“This place is a damn graveyard,” Alaiah muttered, her voice low. “Bet it’s been here for years, maybe decades. And you know what? Feels like it’s starin’ back at us.”
Snow didn’t respond immediately, focused on scanning the floor and walls for anything useful. After a moment, he stopped by what looked like a storage locker embedded in the wall. The door was dented and rusted shut, but the markings suggested it might have once held supplies.
“Help me with this,” he said, gesturing to Alaiah.
She rolled her eyes but stepped forward, bracing her makeshift metal rod against the edge of the locker’s door. “You do the pulling. I’ll do the pryin’.”
With a grunt, Snow yanked on the handle while Alaiah wedged the rod into the gap. The locker groaned in protest, the rusted metal resisting their efforts until, with a sharp screech, the door gave way.
Inside, shelves lined with containers and packets greeted them. Though many had disintegrated with age, some looked intact. Snow pulled out a sealed bag of rations and examined it closely. The expiration date was long past, but the vacuum seal appeared unbroken.
“Rations,” he said, holding it up.
Alaiah peered over his shoulder, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, hell yes. I don’t care if it tastes like cardboard and regret; I’m starvin’.”
They dug through the locker, finding a total of six ration packs. Each was small and clearly meant for emergencies, but in their current situation, it was a goldmine.
“Better than nothing,” Snow said, setting the packs aside.
Alaiah reached into the back of the locker and pulled out a dusty box. She opened it carefully, revealing four dented canteens. She gave one a shake, and the slosh of liquid inside made her grin.
“Water,” she said triumphantly. “Not much, but it’s somethin’.”
Snow took one of the canteens and unscrewed the cap, sniffing the contents cautiously. It smelled metallic but otherwise clean. “We’ll have to ration this carefully. No guzzling.”
“Guzzling? Boy, I grew up sharin’ a faucet with six cousins. I know how to make water last,” Alaiah quipped, tucking two canteens under her arm.
They packed up their finds and continued searching the nearby rooms. In one corner of what appeared to be a small galley, Snow found a bundle of frayed cords and a pair of solar panels no larger than his hand.
“These might be useful,” he said, showing them to Alaiah.
“For what? Buildin’ a damn spaceship outta duct tape and hope?”
“You’d be surprised what people can do with less,” Snow said with a faint smile.
As they finished scavenging the immediate area, Snow took a moment to look at Alaiah. Despite her tough exterior and quick wit, there was a sharpness to her movements, a constant readiness that betrayed how tightly wound she was.
“You okay?” he asked as they started making their way back.
Alaiah shrugged, not looking at him. “Ain’t like I expected a welcome party when I landed here. Just… keepin’ my head on straight. You?”
“Trying to keep it together,” Snow admitted. “I keep thinking about what’s out there, waiting for us.”
“Don’t think too hard,” she said. “You’ll just scare yourself worse. One step at a time, Snow. One step at a time.”
When they returned to the central chamber of the ship, the other prisoners looked up with varying degrees of suspicion and hope. Snow set the rations and canteens on the floor, stepping back to let the group take them in.
“Found some food and water,” he said simply. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep us going for now.”
Axel stepped forward, examining the supplies with a critical eye. “That’s it? Six packs for ten people?”
“That’s six more than we had five minutes ago,” Alaiah shot back, her tone sharp.
“We’ll ration it carefully,” Snow said. “If anyone has a problem with that, feel free to go out there and find more.”
The room fell quiet, no one willing to challenge the reality of the situation.
“We stick together,” Snow continued. “We share what we find. That’s the only way any of us are making it off this planet alive.”
Snow knelt beside the small pile of rations, dividing the packets evenly. Six rations for ten people. It was hardly enough, but it would have to do.
“Alright,” he said, standing and addressing the group. “One packet per person for today. We’ll save the rest for tomorrow. No exceptions.”
“Guess we’re goin’ on a diet,” Axel muttered, snatching his share with a grimace.
“Better than starving,” Snow replied firmly, handing out the remaining packets.
As the group dispersed to eat in silence, Alaiah grabbed her ration and walked to a corner of the room, sitting with her back against the wall. Her expression was unreadable as she tore into the packaging and began eating, eyes scanning the room like a hawk.
Snow lingered, his own packet unopened in his hand. Tobias, the massive, quiet man, approached him, his heavy footsteps echoing in the hollow space.
“You’re handling this pretty well,” Tobias said, his voice low and rumbling.
“Not like we have a choice,” Snow replied, sitting down on a nearby crate.
Tobias joined him, the crate creaking under his weight. “You don’t seem like a cop. Not really. Not like the ones I’m used to.”
Snow raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve met a few in my time,” Tobias said, shrugging. “Most of ’em acted like they were better than the rest of us. You’re... different. I could feel that in my gut.”
“Not sure if that’s a compliment,” Snow said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“It is,” Tobias said simply, ripping open his ration packet. “You seem like someone who’s been through it. Like you know what it’s like to lose. You’re more like us than you know.”
Snow didn’t respond immediately, his thoughts drifting to the weight of his past. Tobias didn’t press further, instead, he ate in silence.
Tobias finished his meal and his stomach still growled. Snow hearing this, handed him his. Tobias smiled and clapped Snow on the shoulder with a hand that felt like a sledgehammer. “Thanks. You’re alright, Snow. For a cop.”
Snow chuckled softly as Tobias walked off to join the others. His gaze drifted to Alaiah, who was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her ration packet empty beside her.
She was shivering, her thin jumpsuit offering little protection against the chill of the ship. Snow hesitated for a moment before standing and pulling off his orange prison top, revealing a plain white T-shirt underneath.
He approached her cautiously, holding out the garment. “Here. You look like you could use it.”
Alaiah looked up at him, surprised. “What, you tryin’ to be a gentleman now?”
“Just trying to help,” he said.
She eyed the shirt for a moment before snatching it from his hand. “Thanks,” she muttered, pulling it over her jumpsuit.
Snow sat down beside her, leaning back against the cold metal wall. “You warm enough now?”
“Warmer than I was,” she admitted, her tone softer than usual.
They sat in silence for a moment before Alaiah spoke again, her voice quieter. “You got any family, Snow?”
He hesitated, the question digging into old wounds. “I had a wife.”
“Had?”
Snow’s jaw tightened. He drew in a slow breath, then said, “She’s gone. And... I’m the reason everyone thinks she’s dead.”
Alaiah turned to look at him, her sharp eyes narrowing. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”
He hesitated, then told her everything. It just came spiling out like he was a fountain waiting to overflow. He told her about his wife’s affair, the night he found out, the argument, and the man who pulled the trigger with Snow’s own gun. He spoke in a low, measured tone, his words heavy with the burden he carried.
When he finished, Alaiah stared at him, her expression unreadable. “Damn,” she said finally. “You.. that means, you are an innocent man.”
“I don’t know about that,” Snow said, his voice thick.
“You didn’t kill her,” she said firmly. “That makes you innocent of the crime at least which means you don’t belong here, Snow. But listen, don’t tell anybody else. These folks? They ain’t gonna care about your sad story. They’ll just see your innocence as weakness.”
“I know, but…” Snow said, his tone hardening.
“Aye,” Alaiah said, leaning closer. “It’s not that I see you like that aight? It’s just, that they need a leader. Somebody to keep their heads on straight. So far that’s you, Snow. You let ’em see anything less, and we’re all dead. Look around you Snow. Who else is it gonna be?”
He nodded slowly, her words sinking in. ”Alright.”
Alaiah leaned back, resting her head against the wall. “You’re a good man, Snow. Don’t let this place take that from you. Don’t doubt yourself. They need you.”
“Ok,” he said quietly.
They sat in silence after that, the weight of their conversation settling over them like a blanket. Snow sat in deep thought looking at everyone around him. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did have a purpose here. A purpose he didn’t want, but a purpose. He watched as slowly, their exhaustion began to take hold, and one by one, the sounds of the others falling asleep filled the ship. Snow leaned his head back, his eyes drifting closed. Beside him, Alaiah curled up slightly, her breathing evening out as she drifted into sleep.
For the first time since landing on the hellish planet, Snow felt a small spark of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him going.
ns 15.158.61.50da2
