Chapter 7: Retreat in the forest
429 Words
Back inside the forest cabin, Mira winced as Daine wrapped her leg with gauze from the emergency kit they always carried. Her fibula was swollen but not broken a blessing, considering the fall. Blood from Daine’s shoulder trickled down in a thin line, but he didn’t flinch.
“Whoever they are,” Mira said, jaw clenched, “they don’t want us getting out alive.”
Daine nodded grimly. “They’re not just covering their tracks. They’re scared. They know we’re close.”
“They panicked,” Mira agreed. “That scent of rot? Meant to mess with our senses. The fall? Set up to slow us. They're desperate.”
Daine checked the time. Midnight wasn’t far. He turned off his flashlight and crouched near the window, peering through a sliver in the cracked wood.
Nothing but forest. But it was the stillness that warned him. They were being surrounded again. Quietly. Smartly.
“We need to move,” he whispered. “Not randomly. Strategic. Hidden.”
Mira’s voice was steady despite her injury. “Underground bunker" North side. The one built during the smuggling raids?”
Daine gave a small nod. “Still off-grid. Still hidden. We’ll need our gear, comms, and rations.”
They moved fast, silent, gathering essentials from their emergency backpacks. Mira tied her boots tighter, pain muffled by adrenaline. Daine patched his shoulder, slid his weapon into the holster, and activated the short-range radar line to base.
Ping. Encrypted signal.
“Officer Mira and Officer Daine reporting a coordinated threat. Suspected multiple targets. Crime scene pending confirmation. We’re initiating Protocol Shade 7. Moving to Safe Point Alpha. Ten-day blackout begins now.”
The response was instant one flash of green.
They were on their own.
Under cover of darkness, Mira and Daine slipped into the woods. No flashlights. No sounds. Just instinct and training. They moved north, circling wide around the known trails, into the denser part of the forest where the ground dipped slightly and moss covered forgotten stones.
A camouflaged hatch awaited them beneath thick underbrush. Daine pushed it open. The old steps creaked faintly, but the reinforced door closed behind them with a satisfying click.
They were safe.
For now.
Meanwhile…
Just as the sky began to cloud over, a group of masked figures reached the wacthhouse.
One kicked the door in. Another scanned the dark corners.
“Empty.”
“Tracks leading north,” a voice hissed. “They’re not dead.”
“Damn it,” the leader spat. “They’re smarter than we thought.”
“They've gone dark.”
- Writer
