What you need is a flamethrower. But you don't have a goddamn flamethrower, now, do you? And no, hell no, you are not running back to get the flamethrower. You're not doing that. There is no goddamn way you're leaving her here, alone and trapped, with Skitters and Hornets and those fun new mutant bugs all over the place. No. No way in hell. There's always another way out, and you always find it. When do you ever not have a little something up your sleeve? And now, of all times, now when you have a family to protect. No, you aren't going anywhere. Not today.
So you take a step back and you look around the clearing, rubbing one hand over your scruffy chin and assessing the situation. You walk a circle around the clearing, sizing up the goo patch. How much of this shit is there, anyway? You pick up a few twigs and start probing the ground next to the log on Sara's right.
No... no... and stuck. You leave the stick where it is and kneel down, scooping away a furrow of dirt. A line in the sand (dirt), and this goddamn goo pile is the enemy you're daring to cross it.
You stand up, move a step to the left, and start again. No... no... no... and stuck. Another line in the dirt. You work your way around the boundary of the goo puddle in this manner, drawing a half-circle around Sara from one side to the other, and now you know what you're grappling with.
Now what? Now what? Think, damn it. Use your head for once. What do you have? What can you use? What do you need? You pace back and forth, alternately rubbing your chin and rubbing your hands together, and already the gears are turning.
What you need is...
SCENARIO A: A big goddamn stick.
SCENARIO B: Fire.
SCENARIO C: To get her outta those pants!