The Green Tomb
920 Words
Chapter Five: The Green Tomb
Location: The Deep Jungle, Unknown Coordinates
Time: 16:30
They moved on foot, cutting through the dense undergrowth with machetes they had salvaged from the wreck.
The jungle here was different. It was too quiet.
Usually, the sss was a cacophony of life—birds, insects, monkeys. But as they moved closer to the coordinates, the sounds died away. The air grew still and stagnant. The trees were twisted, their bark weeping a black, sap-like substance.
"The corruption," Amara noted, kneeling to examine a withered fern. "It’s leaching into the soil. Whatever they are making in that lab, the waste is poisoning the land."
"It smells like death," Jax muttered. He had fashioned a pair of pants out of some canvas tarp they found (Amara had insisted), and he was limping slightly from the bite on his leg.
"We need to treat that leg," Amara said, eyeing the wound. The edges of the bite were turning a sickly purple.
"I heal fast," Jax dismissed. "Wolf metabolism."
"Not against Hollow venom," Amara countered. "Sit down."
She forced him onto a fallen log. From her waterproof belt pouch—thankfully intact—she pulled out a vial of glowing blue liquid. Elixir of the Moon, a potent healing potion brewed by the Santiago witches.
She poured it over the wound. Jax hissed through his teeth, gripping the log until the wood splintered.
"Mother of..." Jax swore. "That stings."
"It’s burning out the infection," Amara said, wrapping the wound with gauze. She looked up at him. His face was inches from hers. His eyes were dilated, fighting the pain.
"Why did you leave your pack, Jax?" she asked suddenly. "You fight like an Alpha. You protect like an Alpha. But you run alone. Why?"
Jax looked away, staring into the dark canopy. The humor faded from his face, replaced by a weary sadness that made him look ten years older.
"I didn't leave," Jax said quietly. "I was exiled."
"For what?"
"For refusing an order," Jax said, his voice rough. "My old Alpha... he wanted to make a deal with a corporation. Wanted to sell our territory for mining rights. I told him he was selling our soul. He told me to kneel."
Jax looked back at her, his eyes burning with defiance.
"I don't kneel. So I tore his ear off. The pack chased me to the border."
Amara stared at him. She had spent her life in the rigid hierarchy of the Imperial Pack and the Triad. Loyalty was everything. But Jax... Jax was loyal to a code, not a crown.
"You're not a rogue," Amara said softly, finishing the bandage. "You're a revolutionary without a cause."
"I have a cause," Jax smirked, the mask slipping back into place. "Staying alive. And getting paid."
"Keep telling yourself that."
They continued trekking.
An hour later, they found the village.
It wasn't marked on any map. It was a cluster of thatched huts built on stilts in a clearing. But there were no fires burning. No children playing. No dogs barking.
"Clear," Amara signaled, moving tactically toward the center of the village.
They checked the huts. Inside, meals were left half-eaten on tables. Clothes were folded. It looked like the people had simply evaporated.
"They didn't leave," Jax called out from the center of the square. "Amara. Look at this."
Amara joined him. In the center of the village stood a massive stone totem. It was ancient, carved with jaguar spirits. But someone had defaced it.
Scrawled across the stone in black spray paint was a symbol: A snake eating its own tail, with a wolf's head.
"The Ouroboros," Amara whispered.
"Ricardo’s old crest. But modified."
"Look closer," Jax pointed to the ground.
Around the totem were drag marks. Hundreds of them. Leading away from the village, deeper into the jungle, toward a massive cliff face covered in vines.
"They took them," Jax realized, a low growl building in his chest. "They didn't just take soldiers. They took the families. The kids."
Amara felt a cold fury settle over her. This wasn't just a lab. It was a harvest.
"We aren't just blowing this place up," Amara said, drawing her weapons. Her voice was ice cold. "We are going to burn it to the ground, and then we are going to salt the earth."
Jax looked at her. He saw the shift in her. The Valkyrie wasn't just doing a job anymore. She was hunting.
And for the first time, the Rogue Alpha looked at the Imperial soldier and didn't see a stiff, rule-following princess. He saw a mate worthy of the hunt.
"Lead the way, Boss," Jax said, shifting his grip on his machete.
They followed the drag marks to the cliff face. Hidden behind a curtain of thick vines was a massive steel blast door, set directly into the rock. It was stamped with the Vane Industries logo, rusted and painted over.
Amara placed a charge of C4 on the hinges.
"On my mark," Amara whispered.
"Three," Jax counted. "Two."
"One."
BOOM.
The door blew inward.
Amara and Jax stepped into the darkness of the Black Site, leaving the jungle silence behind. Inside, the screams began.
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