I stand alone, rooted in place like the boulders strewn across the barren landscape fronting the gate. Chosen. No, selected as the last one willing to face the coming barrage, that I knew was coming. The rest, who learned too late, were ill-prepared and have already fled to higher ground, seeking safety in the already crowded caves where the other weak-willed and unrepentant cower.

Off in the distance, I see the lights of torches approaching in the twilight, winding their way through the valley towards the gate. The sounds of their guttural chanting are carried on the wind like the sulfuric stench rising from a volcano. The line of red and yellow lights snake its way up to the base of the hill. The chanting punctuated with curses screamed in full voice at no one in particular.

As I watch the procession, my own words reverberate in my brain. Words to serve as a warning of the mobs and what they meant to do. Words ignored as alarmist and dismissed as irrational. Words that came true, but were too late to save those who had refused to listen. Words ignored at their own peril.

When the time came for decisions to be made our leaders continued bickering amongst themselves and equivocated, ultimately falling into disarray. Each faction insists on their own righteousness and moral supremacy while failing to subsume their ideas to the greater cause of survival. Although their goals had merit, their methods ultimately failed and the efforts fell into a heap of bones. Then the scared leaders retreated and skittered to their respective caves where they still ruled. Caves that conveniently let in too little light and let out too much noise.

There must be others tasked with guarding the other gates, but I have not seen one of my kind in months. I hold out hope that there are others in far-flung areas thinking the same thing. If so, we all know that there is no help coming and we must stand alone.

The marchers reach the base of the hill and begin ascending, picking their way between the abandoned symbols of civility left behind by the people now in the caves. Occasionally, they discover an especially infuriating relic and stop to fortify their souls by smashing it beyond recognition. Reinvigorated by their demonstration, they resume their march at a faster pace.

Violence in defense of reason is indefensible, and the only weapons I possess are words. Argument, satire, sarcasm, scientific facts, and empathy all selected and arrayed for maximum effect. How else to rise above the barbarians, storming the gate and threatening to stream into the caves where the innocent are wholly unprotected? Time is running short for me, so I steel myself for the onslaught of ignorance, ready to put my words to their best use in defense of those who are unarmed. Why? Because when our bodies are beaten and we’re ready to take our last breath, words are all we have left.