Jess leans his hip against the table. "Exactly. That's the power of anonymity." Their captors are doing a bang up job of profiting off the fear of the unknown.

The sudden appearance of the ruins and the crates hit that point home disturbingly well--they had no means of predicting where or when an attack, or a message, or even something as simple and random shoe box with a gift inside could come. There were too many blanks. Jess hates blanks, and he'll continue to hate them until he can fill them.

"What do you think our play should be?" He already knows what he intends to do--and he has a good idea of what the majority of the townsfolk will decide based on the snatches of conversation he's been listening to since he arrived. Now he's asking Raven.