Location: Forest Perimeter — Under Fire
Time: Continuous
The air snaps with gunfire.
Not chaotic.
Not sloppy.
Controlled.
That’s what terrifies me.
These men aren’t spraying bullets and hoping for a hit.
They’re aiming.
Tracking.
Adjusting.
“They’re herding us!” I shout, ducking behind a fallen log as bark explodes inches from my face.
Jase drops beside me a second later—too close, too solid, toothere.
“They’re not herding,” he says, already reloading. “They’re closing.”
I risk a glance.
Three positions.
Left flank—two shooters.
Right—elevated.
Front—
My stomach drops.
“They’re funneling us into a kill zone.”
“Yeah,” he says calmly. “I noticed.”
Of course he did.
Another shot cracks past us.
Closer.
Too close.
I fire back—controlled, precise—dropping the elevated shooter before he can reposition.
“One down,” I say.
“More coming.”
Always.
