Mal was crouched down by the window, armed with nothing but his handgun, and cursing himself for not bringing more weapons into the Cobb home. But then again, he hadn't expected an attack.

Or had he?

In hindsight, it was clear that they should've been better prepared for this kind of situation. He should've known a man like MacHaig was crazy enough to pull a stunt like this. He'd credited him with too much intelligence, and the rest of the people in town with too much bravery and common sense. It was so obvious now.

He should've listened to Jayne, was the horrifying conclusion to this train of thoughts. Should have let him gun down the hundan at first sight. He'd miscalculated the situation completely, perhaps not even bothered to calculate it at all.

"Zoë!" he hollered towards the kitchen, where his first mate and Fergus had gone to cover the back. The radios were back on Serenity and the only way of communicating was by shouting, and it was hard being heard over all the firing. "D'you see anythin'?"

"Only the torches!" Zoë yelled back. "I'm countin' ten back here."

Mal cursed again. It was the same at his front. In the blackness of the night, they could only see the lights, not the actual men carrying them. And he saw at least fifteen moving torches in addition to Zoë's ten.

Twenty-five men, then. At least.

He quickly scanned the room. Radiant was to his left, hunched down by the other window, at the moment reloading her rifle. Mattie was still by the trap door, gripping his gun with a passion. His eyes were wide, but glued to the door; he was ready to perform the task Jayne had left him with. River lay on the floor next to him, whimpering with terror. And Simon was in the corner with Obadiah, and Mal noticed how he was working a lot slower and less frantically now.

Not a good sign.

A wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault. He had accused MacHaig for being arrogant, and