Page 56 of Closer Than You Think
The merc drops like a marionette with its strings cut, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud. One down, countless more to go.
I duck back behind cover as a hail of bullets rips through the air, sending splinters of wood flying. The mercs are closing in, their shouts echoing off the warehouse walls.
But I'm not afraid. I've faced worse odds and come out on top. This is what I was born to do—to fight, to protect, to make the hard choices that others can't.
We take down all the targets and breathe again.
But then I see a flash of light in the corner.
“The fuck is that?”
Cain strides forward his phone in his hand, anger coating each step.
“It’s Blake. This is Blake’s fucking phone. Why would it be here?”
“In the room where Hallie . . . ”
I’m ready to explode with rage, but seeing Cain just as angry actually does something to calm me down. I might have been betrayed by one of my closest teammates, but I have others who would kill and die for me. Just as I would for them.
Gunshots rain out again and we take cover. Muzzle flashes illuminate the darkness, casting fleeting shadows on the walls as I unleash a barrage of bullets, each shot finding its mark with deadly precision. The fallen mercenaries litter the ground like discarded puppets in a macabre play, their presence a grim testament to the brutality of our job.
As the mercenaries draw closer, their footsteps reverberating off the warehouse walls like ominous drumbeats, a flicker of dread grips my heart. But salvation arrives in the form of Jet and Alan.
Relief washes over me as they join our ranks, their presence bolstering our dwindling strength against overwhelming odds. “Thanks for joining the party!” I shout above the cacophony of gunfire, a mix of jest and genuine relief coloring my words.
Jet's grin is infectious as he positions himself beside me, his weapon becoming an extension of his lethal intent. “Miss out on all this action? Not a chance,” he retorts with unwavering determination.
Alan stands resolute at Cain's flank, his unwavering focus mirroring our shared concern for Hallie's safety. Together, we stand united against the encroaching storm of adversaries, an unbreakable phalanx forged in blood and battle.
Despite our gains on the battlefield, an insidious sense of urgency gnaws at my resolve. Hallie's fate hangs in the balance somewhere beyond these walls. Every passing moment here risks losing her.
“Jet! Alan! Cover us!” I command with steely authority as we stride towards the doorway. “We're going after Hallie!”
“Roger that, boss.”
“And if you see that cocksucker Blake, shoot him on sight.”
They’re taken aback, but Cain nods, and I watch as understanding dawns.
“We’ve got you, brother.”
“All day.”
The echo of gunfire fades into the distance as Jet and Alan's covering fire drives the remaining mercenaries into retreat. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as Cain and I race through the warehouse, following the trail of blood that leads us to Hallie.
“She can't have gone far, at least not without leaving a trail,” Cain says, his voice tight with worry. “Not with that wound.”
I nod, scanning the ground for any sign of her passing. The blood trail is sporadic, a testament to her strength and determination, but it's enough to guide us forward.
We burst out of the warehouse and into the night, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of battle. The blood trail continues, leading us towards the woods that border the property.
Cain pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning the treeline. “We have to be careful,” he warns. “They could be waiting for us.”
“I don't care,” I growl, my grip tightening on my gun. “I'm not leaving her out there.”
Together, we plunge into the darkness, our senses on high alert. The woods are thick and dense, the undergrowth tugging at our clothes as we push forward.
I feel Hallie's presence beside me, fragile yet resilient in the face of danger. The blood trail we follow through the dense woods fades, teasing us with uncertainty.
