Questioning Orders
By Lucien Grey
Bruce’s heart beat the slow and steady pace of a predator stalking its prey. He hugged the tree line around the enemy camp. His rifle gone, lost somewhere in his last bout with three lookouts he’d dispatched to get this far, he had only his hunting knife, clenched tight in his fist. He breathed in deep, holding in the scent of desecrated earth and blood in his chest before releasing it slowly through his mouth.
There was a shuffle as the soldiers moved around their makeshift camp. The group of Ajarans were relaxed, settled down for the night, sharing a flask and playing a game of cards, completely ignorant of Bruce’s presence. He heard the soft rumble of their speech, followed by shared laughter. They gave a small cheer, and Bruce made his move. His ent
