AfterLife

chapter 17

Logan stirred to the sound of heavy stomping in the hallway, a rhythmic thud that vibrated through the very foundations of the dam, jarring him awake from a restless sleep.

Connor shook him awake, his voice urgent and laced with concern. "Logan, wake up! Something's going on."

Logan sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his mind still clouded with the lingering images of Rory, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun. He opened the door to their shared room and found the corridor teeming with Kyno's men, their faces grim and determined, their movements swift and purposeful. They were preparing for something, something that had them on high alert, a silent anticipation of imminent danger.

He spotted Kyno near the command center, his face illuminated by the flickering light of a nearby monitor, his expression etched with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. "Kyno, what's happening?" Logan asked, his voice rough with sleep, a low rumble in the quiet chaos.

"Sang Shi," Kyno replied, his voice tight, a low growl that mirrored the tension in the air. "A herd of them is heading our way. We have to take them out before they reach the dam."

Logan's adrenaline surged, his senses sharpening, his mind clearing with a sudden jolt. "My men and I can help," he offered, his voice firm, a declaration of unwavering support.

Kyno nodded, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the alliance between their people. "We'll need all the help we can get."

Logan quickly gathered his men, their faces a mixture of apprehension and resolve, their movements precise and coordinated. They followed Kyno to the main entrance, where the scene outside was a stark contrast to the dimly lit corridors within. The pitch-black night was pierced by the harsh glare of floodlights, illuminating the immediate perimeter of the dam but leaving the surrounding darkness an impenetrable void, a sea of shadows that concealed unknown dangers.

Kyno's men lined themselves up behind hastily constructed barricades, their spears and makeshift weapons at the ready, their faces grim and determined. Logan's men, trained for combat in the vastness of space, instinctively readied their guns, their movements fluid and efficient. But before they could take aim, Levi stepped forward, his face contorted with anger, his eyes blazing with fury.

"No guns!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the tense silence, a harsh command that cut through the anticipation.

Logan looked at him, confused, his brow furrowed. "What?"

Levi stepped closer, his eyes blazing with fury, his voice laced with a raw, primal anger. "If you start shooting those guns, you'll attract more of them. We'll be overrun!"

Logan's mind raced, quickly assessing the situation, weighing the risks and benefits. He understood Levi's concern, but he also knew that his men were trained to handle firearms with precision and efficiency, their skills honed in the unforgiving vacuum of space.

Without breaking eye contact, he yelled to his men, "Attach your silencers!"

Without hesitation, each of Logan's men retrieved small, cylindrical barrels from their utility belts and attached them to the muzzles of their rifles. The sound of clicks and metallic shuffles filled the air for a moment, a brief, mechanical symphony in the midst of the tense silence.

Logan narrowed his eyes at Levi. "Problem solved," he said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge.

Levi made a face, his expression a mixture of anger and grudging respect, then stormed away, disappearing into the shadows, his footsteps heavy and resentful.

Logan looked up and saw Rory standing on a raised platform, her figure silhouetted against the floodlights, her eyes scanning the darkness with an unwavering intensity. She gave him a small, almost imperceptible smirk, a silent acknowledgment of his quick thinking, a shared understanding that transcended words.

Then, the silence was shattered by the bloodcurdling screams and shrieks of the Sang Shi, their voices echoing through the forest, a chilling prelude to the coming battle, a symphony of terror that sent shivers down Logan's spine.

As soon as the first of the Sang Shi stumbled into the harsh glare of the floodlights, their mutated forms grotesque and menacing, Logan's men opened fire. The silenced rifles barked with a muffled thud, the bullets finding their marks with deadly precision, their impacts a series of muffled thumps in the night. The Sang Shi fell one by one, their bodies collapsing onto the dry earth with sickening thuds.

As the herd surged closer, their numbers overwhelming, Kyno's people jumped into the fray, their spears and makeshift weapons flashing in the light, their movements swift and coordinated. They moved with a practiced efficiency, their attacks fluid and deadly, their determination a silent testament to their resilience.

A group of Sang Shi began to close in on Logan's position, their gnarled claws reaching out, their eyes burning with a primal hunger. He switched to his hunting knife, its blade gleaming in the artificial light, and prepared for hand-to-hand combat. He moved with a practiced grace, his movements fluid and precise, his strength amplified by years of rigorous training, his reflexes honed to a razor's edge. He dispatched the Sang Shi with ruthless efficiency, his knife finding its mark with deadly accuracy, his movements a blur of lethal motion.

He didn't see the one sneaking up behind him, its gnarled claws reaching for his throat, its breath hot and fetid on his neck. Just as it was inches away, an arrow flew past him, burying itself between the Sang Shi's eyes with a sickening thud. The creature collapsed, its body falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Logan turned to see Rory standing on the raised platform, her bow still raised, her eyes fixed on the remaining Sang Shi, her figure a vision of deadly grace. She gave him a lazy salute and a wink, a silent acknowledgment of her timely intervention, a shared moment of triumph. She continued to draw her arrows, her aim precise and deadly, taking down the Sang Shi with effortless ease, her movements a fluid dance of death. Then, she switched to dual daggers, her movements a blur of motion, a whirlwind of lethal grace.

She moved with a flawless fluidity, her attacks precise and graceful, her movements a deadly ballet of combat. She was a force to be reckoned with, a warrior in her own right, her skills honed to a razor's edge. As she dispatched a Sang Shi with a swift, elegant strike, another lunged from the shadows, its mutated claws reaching for her.

Logan quickly raised his rifle and fired, the silenced bullet finding its mark, dropping the Sang Shi at Rory's feet with a soft thud.

Rory looked over at Logan, her eyes sparkling with amusement, a silent acknowledgment of their shared prowess. Logan smiled and gave her a salute, a silent acknowledgment of their teamwork. Rory chuckled, a soft, melodious sound that momentarily drowned out the sounds of the battle, a moment of shared joy in the midst of chaos.

When the last of the Sang Shi had fallen, Kyno and his men began to move through the area, ensuring that none remained, their movements thorough and methodical. Levi, his face grim and determined, checked on each of his people, making sure that no one had been injured, his concern a silent testament to his leadership.

Kyno's men began to gather the bodies of the Sang Shi, piling them into a large heap, their movements efficient and practiced. They would be burned in the morning, a grim ritual of disposal, a symbolic cleansing of the night's violence.

Logan couldn't help but steal glances at Rory, his eyes drawn to her like a moth to a flame, his admiration growing with each passing moment. He found himself drawn to her more and more, each encounter deepening the connection between them, a silent promise of a bond yet to be fully realized.