Chapter 4: Planning for Rescue
The three huddled in the dense undergrowth, their breath shallow, eyes fixed on the distant bandit camp. A flickering bonfire cast jagged shadows against the surrounding trees, their gnarled branches swaying in the night breeze. The air carried the scent of burnt meat and unwashed bodies, a sickening reminder of the people they were about to face.
Near the center of the camp, barely visible through the shifting torchlight, was a small wooden cage.
Inside it—huddled in a corner—was Lily.
Alex's fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. "We need to go now."
Harvis didn't even look at him. "No."
Alex snapped his head toward him. "What do you mean, no?! She's right there! We can take them!"
The silver-haired girl beside them placed a firm hand on Alex's arm. "Charging in without a plan will only get us caught. Or worse."
Alex shook her off, his voice rising. "Then what do we do? Just sit here while they—"
"Enough," Harvis interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "We wait. We observe. Then we strike when the moment is right."
Alex's teeth ground together. Every passing second felt like a betrayal. "And how long do we wait?"
Harvis's gaze remained on the camp. "Midnight."
"Midnight?" Alex nearly shouted but caught himself. His hands trembled with frustration. "That's hours away!"
Harvis finally turned to face him, his eyes cold. "Look at them."
Alex exhaled sharply, forcing himself to follow Harvis's gaze. The bandits were drinking, laughing, eating like wild dogs feasting on stolen prey. Their loud, careless movements told Alex one thing—Harvis was right.
"They'll get comfortable," Harvis continued. "Then they'll get tired. By midnight, half of them will be unconscious, and the other half will be sluggish. That's our chance."
Alex's breath steadied, though the storm inside him hadn't calmed. "How do you even know that?"
Harvis motioned toward the camp. "The guards—there are five of them still awake. One on the north side, another on the west, two near the supply tents, and one by the cage."
The silver-haired girl nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "We take them out silently, one by one."
Alex exhaled, rubbing his temples. "And what if one of them wakes up?"
"Then we adapt," Harvis said simply.
Alex scoffed. "Easy for you to say."
Harvis's expression darkened. "You want your sister back, right?"
Alex glared but nodded.
"Then follow the plan."
A heavy silence settled between them.
The silver-haired girl finally spoke. "Alright. Let's go over the details again."
Harvis pointed to the north side of the camp. "I'll take out the first guard—quick strike to the neck. Silent. No mess."
The silver-haired girl smirked. "I'll handle the two near the supply tents. A dagger to the throat—quick and clean."
Alex frowned. "And me?"
"You're getting Lily."
Alex blinked. "That's it?"
Harvis's voice turned sharp. "That's everything. You're the only one she trusts. If she wakes up and sees me or her, she might panic, make noise. We can't risk that."
Alex inhaled slowly. "Fine. But if anything happens, I'm fighting."
Harvis nodded. "Then we meet back here and disappear into the forest."
Alex's fingers twitched over the handle of his knife. "And if we get caught?"
Harvis's gaze was unwavering. "We don't."
---
Midnight
The bandit at the northern post yawned, rubbing his tired eyes.
Harvis moved like a whisper, weaving through the shadows.
He was behind the man before the guard even sensed a presence. With one swift motion, Harvis struck the back of the man's neck, targeting a precise pressure point. The bandit crumpled soundlessly, his body folding to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
One down.
A few paces away, the silver-haired girl was already on the move. She ghosted between the tents, her daggers gleaming under the moonlight. The first bandit near the supply crates barely had time to register a presence before her blade found his throat. He gurgled once, then collapsed.
The second one turned, hand reaching for his sword. But he was too slow. She was already behind him, her dagger sliding into the gap beneath his ribs. A sharp exhale. Then silence.
"Clear," she murmured.
Harvis turned to Alex. "Your turn. Get Lily."
Alex's heart pounded against his ribs. He took a breath, steeled himself, and crept toward the cage.
Lily lay curled up, her small body trembling.
"Lily," Alex whispered.
Her tear-streaked eyes fluttered open. "Big Brother…?"
"Shh, I'm getting you out."
He forced his knife into the rusted lock. His hands were shaking, but after a few tense moments—click.
The door creaked open.
"Lily, come on," he urged.
She hesitated—then leaped into his arms.
Relief flooded through Alex. He could feel her tiny hands clutching his shirt, her sobs muffled against his chest.
Then—
A deep, groggy voice behind them.
"...What the hell…?"
Alex's blood ran cold.
A bandit, half-conscious, sat up from his makeshift bedroll, blinking against the haze of sleep. His eyes landed on the open cage.
Then—on Alex.
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
The bandit's gaze sharpened.
His mouth opened to shout—
But Alex was already moving.
He lunged, knife raised—
Too late.
The bandit roared, reaching for his weapon—
A loud crash as he kicked over a crate, knocking over bottles and metal cups.
The noise was deafening in the silent night.
Nearby, the other bandits stirred.
A low murmur spread through the camp.
Then—
A bellowing voice:
"WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
Harvis's head snapped toward the commotion, his jaw tightening.
The bandits were waking up.
One of them reached for his sword.
Another scrambled to his feet, still disoriented.
A third grabbed a torch, eyes scanning the darkness.
The silver-haired girl cursed under her breath. "We need to move. Now."
Harvis's gaze darted between the waking bandits and Alex, who still clutched Lily tightly.
Too late for silence.
Too late for a clean escape.
Harvis's expression darkened.
"So much for the quiet approach," he muttered.
And then—
The bandits surged forward.