Page 4 of Silent Dust
Suddenly, Bear’s comm crackled. It was Blast.
“Two militia spotted near the west alley earlier,” Blast reported quietly. “Looks like they just stopped to take a nature break. They moved on without seeing us. West side is clear.”
Bear exhaled slowly, tension easing. “Copy that, Blast. Good work. Everyone, stay sharp but all clear for now.”
The team regrouped after completing their scouting, each member settling into position. Nova remained on overwatch, eyes sharp and steady, holding the perimeter until Blast is due to take over.
Exhaustion pressed down on them, forcing a brief pause to rest and refuel. They shared the rations Blast had brought, the meal offering a rare moment of calm. Yet beneath the surface, Bear’s nerves were on edge. Had the boy led them into a trap? The thought gnawed at him, tightening his chest.
In the dim light, eyes met across the cramped space, unspoken questions and steely resolve passing between them. Minutes dragged, stretching into what felt like an eternity. Every rustle of leaves, every distant bark, sharpened the tension hanging thick in the air—danger lurking just beyond sight.
Bear’s hand rested on the cold metal of his weapon, its weight grounding him even as his mind raced. “Don’t forget the water!” Dog’s low, urgent voice cut through the silence, a thread of anxiety woven in. Dog sat rigid against the wall, eyes flicking to every creak of the old building, every shifting shadow.
Blast leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his thigh. “I’m gonna relieve Nova,” he said, grabbing his pack and moving toward the door.
Bear watched Blast rise, the tension in the room tightening like a coil. Every team member was alert—senses sharp, muscles ready—waiting, hoping the boy’s lead was true and the danger still at bay.
Through the crackling silence on the comms, Moose’s voice cut through. “West is clear. Just waiting for the pay-per-view show,” he said, his words laced with sardonic humor, attempting to mask the nerves that prickled at his skin. His gaze remained fixed into the darkness, every shadow possibly hiding Samir—or something worse.
Bear’s jaw clenched as he listened. The false levity in Moose’s words couldn’t disguise the gravity of their situation. The team’s gut told them they might be walking into a trap—Al-Harb could be trailing Samir, or worse, Samir might have led them straight into the lion’s den. Every passing second felt heavier, the shadows around them thick with unseen threats.
Bear keyed his radio, his voice tight but controlled. “Keep your eyes wide. Nothing’s guaranteed out here.”
The quiet outside pressed in like a weight on their chests. They knew Al-Harb was cunning, and Samir’s loyalties were as unpredictable as the shadows at their feet. The waiting game was deadly.
Link, his youthful enthusiasm tempered by the gravity of the situation, leaned closer to Bear, his Southern accent thickening with his apprehension, “Ya think he’s actually gonna show?”
Bear’s eyes never wavered from the shack’s door, every muscle coiled in quiet anticipation. The dim light inside cast shifting shadows that danced just beyond the threshold, hinting at movement and purpose within. His breath was measured but taut, each inhale sharpening his senses to the faintest sound—the scrape of a footstep, the whisper of fabric, the distant murmur of the street outside.
Outside, through the grimy window, a small figure pressed close to the rough-hewn wall caught his peripheral vision. The boy’s presence was subtle but unmistakable—a flicker of nervous energy wrapped in shadows, eyes darting with a mix of fear and determination. Bear felt the weight of the moment settle over him like a storm about to break. This kid held the thread they needed, the fragile key to the dangerous path ahead. The knowledge that Al-Harb’s forces might be closing in tightened the knot in his chest, sharpening his focus.
Moose whispered quietly into his comms, “The boy’s here. Looks nervous, but he’s alone.”
Samir heard the faintest sound, a rustle in the undergrowth. His heart leaped into his throat; his hand instinctively moved to the knife tucked into his waistband, his senses heightened, straining to discern whether the sound signaled friend or foe. His life was a gamble, and this was the decisive moment that could change everything.
Inside the shack, Bear turned slightly at Moose’s report, his focus unwavering. “Stay on him, Moose. If he makes a run for it, we can’t lose him.”
Moose’s mind raced through different scenarios, weighing the risks. Trusting a street kid could be a gamble, but the desperation in the boy’s eyes made him want to believe. He understood that street networks often operated on mutual benefit, one that traded knowledge for protection. If Samir was willing to take the risk, then maybe they could too.
After watching for a few moments, the boy finally made his move, stepping cautiously toward the entrance. At the same time, Moose slipped up behind him.
“Hey,” Moose whispered softly, positioning himself so the boy wouldn’t startle. “I’m a friend.”
Samir froze, eyes wide, instinctively tightening his grip on the knife before slowly relaxing as he recognized the man’sintent. “You with?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he pointed inside.
“Yeah,” Moose replied, keeping his tone calm and reassuring. “We’re here to help. You’re safe with us. But we need to talk.”
The boy’s gaze darted back toward the shack, where he could see the silhouettes of the team through the grimy window. “I… I do not know,” he stammered, the conflict evident in his eyes.
“I get it,” Moose said, lowering his voice further. “But I promise you, we’re not like the others. We’re not here to hurt you. We want to stop Al-Harb. We need your help to do that.”
Samir hesitated, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on him. “What if…trap?”
“Then we’ll deal together,” Moose replied, his sincerity cutting through the boy’s fear. “But if you don’t take this chance, you might end up back in the hands of people who won’t think twice about using you.”
The boy took a deep breath, glancing once more at the shack before looking back at Moose. “Okay. I help. But… promise…you no let them take me.”
Moose nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “I promise. Let’s get you inside. The others are waiting.”
