As the first captives begin boarding, I manage to get close enough to Mom and Clara for us to shuffle together. Mom hands me the stuffed bear like she’s been keeping it safe for me.

I slip the bear onto my sword, disguising it again. I have wild hopes of being able to take it with me and maybe using my fledgling skills to get us out of this mess.

My hopes are dashed when I see that weapons are being taken from prisoners as they board. There’s a growing pile of stuff on the dock by the boat ramp. Axes, spiked bats, tire irons, machetes, knives, and even a few guns. I would still have hope if the pile only had weapons but it also includes purses, backpacks, dolls, and yes, even stuffed animals.

There are grim-faced people—humans—taking these things from the prisoners. They don’t talk and they don’t look anyone in the eye. They just grab whatever is semi-visible on the prisoners and toss the objects onto the pile.

I stroke my bear, wondering if this is my best chance at escape. Even if I couldn’t get away, maybe I could cause enough of a distraction so that Mom and Clara could. We’re in the brief window of time when I still have my sword and we’re no longer trapped in a net so it’s now or never.

A gunshot explodes so close that we all duck.

A man who apparently didn’t want to give up his gun holds it still pointed at one of the women minions who is now bleeding on the ramp. He is instantly surrounded by scorpions with their stingers. Their fangs are so close to his face that I’m sure he can smell their breath.

He trembles so badly that he actually drops his gun and a spreading wetness stains the front of his pants.

The scorpions don’t attack the shooter, though. It’s as if they’re waiting for something.

“Here, take her knife,” says another human minion. His face is lined with grief, his eyes half-dead and shell-shocked. He grabs a kitchen knife out of a prisoner’s hand and gives it to the shooter. “Now, toss it into that pile.”

The shooter’s arm spastically jerks the knife onto the pile. He looks so frightened that he probably never considered stabbing one of the scorpions with it.

The scorpions hiss and back off, moving to patrol the crowd again.

We were all so riveted by the drama that none of us thought to escape while it was happening. So much for causing a distraction to let Mom and Clara get away.