Page 64 of Whispers and Warriors
Disorientation.
The world spun wildly around Chris as he stumbled, his mind bombarded by a kaleidoscope of fragmented memories. Vivid images of roaring flames danced before his eyes, casting an eerie glow that mingled with the piercing screams echoing in his ears. He could see the faces of his brothers, their expressions of fear and confusion lost amidst the swirling chaos. It was the day when everything had irrevocably changed, a day etched into his memory with painful clarity.
Blinking rapidly, Chris shook his head, trying to clear the haunting images that threatened to consume him. The present rushed back in a dizzying whirlwind of urgency and danger. Gunshots echoed somewhere off the ship, mingled with panicked shouts and the pounding of feet against metal.
Focus, damn it, he chastised himself, gritting his teeth as he forced his mind to the here and now. There was no time for ghosts of the past, not when their lives hung in the balance.
Chris’s instincts kicked into high gear, his body moving on autopilot as he assessed the situation. An attack. Unexpected, brutal, and carefully orchestrated. His eyes darted around, taking in the chaos that had erupted on the ship. Crew members scrambled for cover, their faces etched with fear and determination.
His heart hammered in his chest as fear for Emma consumed him. The explosion had come from where she’d been, or damn close to it.
He had to find her, protect her at all costs. The image of her, soft and vulnerable in his arms just hours before, flashed through his mind. He couldn’t lose her, not now, not ever.
Chris surged forward, his muscles coiled with tension as he navigated the narrow corridors. Bash appeared at his side, his face a mask of anger and frustration. “What the hell is going on?” Bash growled, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of the attackers.
“I don’t know, but we need to find Emma,” Chris replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Nothing else mattered in that moment—not the ship, not the crew, only the woman who had captured his heart and soul and his team.
Alex’s voice cut through the haze, urgent and commanding. “Chris! Chris, we need to move!”
Chris blinked, his friend’s words penetrating the fog of his mind. He turned to see Alex, his hazel eyes fierce with determination, his jaw set in a grim line. As he’d spiraled, Alex clearly hadn’t and Chris was grateful for that. He’d forgotten Alex and Bash had been with him as he’d spiraled into the past, brief as it was.
Alex gripped Chris’s shoulder, his touch grounding him in the present. “We’ll find her, but we need to stay focused. Assess the threat, then act. Why am I the only telling you this?”
Chris nodded, drawing strength from Alex’s steadying presence. He took a deep breath, pushing aside the remnants of his disorientation. This was what he had been trained for, what he had spent years perfecting—the ability to think clearly and act decisively in the face of danger.
His gaze swept over the ship, taking in every detail with a critical eye. The attackers had struck with precision, their movements coordinated and purposeful. This was no random act of violence, it was a calculated assault, designed to catch them off guard and inflict maximum damage.
Someone had known about this ship.
His eyes darted around, seeking information through the growing chaos, analyzing the possible entry points and escape routes. They needed to neutralize the threat, secure the ship, and get to Emma before it was too late. Every second counted, and he refused to let her down.
With a quick hand signal to Alex and Bash, Chris moved forward, his body coiled with tension, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. They worked seamlessly as a unit, their movements fluid and synchronized, honed by years of training and trust.
As they pushed toward the back of the ship, the sounds of chaos grew louder—shouts of pain, the clatter of gunfire, the thud of bodies hitting the ground. Chris gritted his teeth, his determination burning brighter with each passing moment.
He would find her, no matter the cost. He would protect her, even if it meant sacrificing everything he had. In a world torn apart by war and destruction, she was his beacon of hope, his reason for fighting.
And he would not let her go without a fight.
Chris turned to tell them not to split up and was surprised at what he saw.
Alex’s face contorted with frustration and anger as he scanned the chaotic scene, his hazel eyes darting from one point to another, searching for any sign of the attackers. “Damn it!” he growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “How did they get the jump on us like this?”
Chris shook his head, his own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Doesn’t matter now. We need to focus on finding them and taking them out before they cause any more damage.”
Bash stumbled closer, his face twisted in a scowl as he cursed up a storm. “Those bastards are going to pay for this,” he snarled, his voice rough with rage. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Alex nodded grimly, his jaw set with determination. He positioned himself beside Chris, their shoulders brushing as they stood together, ready to defend their group against any threat. Chris could feel the heat radiating off Alex’s body, the tension coiled in his muscles, and he drew strength from his presence.
The ship was in bedlam, the high-pitched tones of shouting and booming gunfire echoing through the ship. Crew members raced past them, their faces etched with fear and confusion as they sought shelter from the attack. The clatter of feet on the metal deck was almost deafening, a cacophony of noise that added to the sense of urgency and danger.
Chris’s heart pounded in his chest as he moved forward, his senses heightened, his body thrumming with adrenaline. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in the air, mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder. The ship rocked beneath his feet, the walls vibrating with each explosion, and he fought to keep his balance.
As they rounded a corner, a burst of gunfire erupted from ahead, the bullets ricocheting off the metal walls. Chris dropped into a crouch, his hand reaching for his weapon as he scanned the corridor for any sign of movement.
If this is just the beginning, we’re in for one hell of a fight. His heart filled with dread as he saw a gun in his face, and then it was gone.
“Welcome, Boss,” Bash growled and pushed past him.
