The rain had started falling just before dawn, a cold, steady drizzle that soaked through Sarah's uniform and chilled her to the bone. It wasn't the kind of rain that cleansed; it was the kind that lingered, seeping into everything, carrying the weight of the world with it. The forest was eerily quiet, save for the distant rumble of artillery fire.
Sarah adjusted her grip on her rifle, her eyes scanning the horizon. They were nearing the outskirts of Sector Seven, the rendezvous point where reinforcements were supposed to meet them. The thought of reinforcements brought her no comfort. After everything they had been through, she wasn't sure who or what to trust anymore.
Behind her, Harper and Rivas moved in formation, their movements slow and deliberate. Everyone was on edge. The ambush from the night before had left its mark, both physically and mentally. Two men down, the rest of the team bruised and battered. But there was no time to mourn. Not here. Not now.
A soft crackle came through Sarah's earpiece. It was Harper's voice, low and cautious. "Stay sharp. We're close."
Sarah nodded, her heart picking up pace. She could feel the tension in the air, thick as the fog that clung to the trees. Something wasn't right. The silence was too complete, too deliberate.
They continued moving forward, their footsteps barely making a sound on the damp forest floor. Every muscle in Sarah's body was coiled tight, ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. She kept her finger resting lightly on the trigger, the rifle a familiar weight in her hands.
The forest finally began to thin out, revealing the open fields of Sector Seven ahead. The rendezvous point was just beyond the hill, in the ruins of an old farmhouse. But as they neared the clearing, Sarah's instincts screamed at her to stop.
"Hold up," she whispered into her mic, her voice barely above a breath. The team halted instantly, their weapons raised. "Something's wrong."
Harper moved up beside her, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. "What is it?"
Sarah didn't answer right away. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the air felt wrong. It was too quiet, too still. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
"We're walking into something," she finally said. "It feels like a trap."
Rivas muttered a curse under his breath, but Harper just nodded. "Alright. Let's approach from the north, stay low. We can't afford another ambush."
They moved slowly, circling around the hill toward the north side of the farmhouse. The rain had picked up, turning the ground beneath their feet into a slippery mess, but they pressed on. As they reached the crest of the hill, Sarah crouched low, peering through the scope of her rifle.
The farmhouse came into view, its roof half-collapsed, windows shattered. It looked abandoned, but Sarah wasn't fooled. She scanned the area carefully, her finger hovering over the trigger.
There. Movement. Just a flicker, barely noticeable through the rain. A shadow slipped around the side of the building, disappearing into the ruins.
"We've got company," Sarah whispered. "Enemy movement inside the farmhouse."
Harper swore softly. "Looks like we beat our reinforcements here."
"What now?" Rivas asked, his voice tense.
"We stick to the plan," Harper replied, his voice steady. "We take them out, secure the position, and wait for backup. Sarah, you've got point. Rivas, you're with me."
Sarah nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. The tension was almost unbearable, but she pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. They had done this before. They could do it again.
They moved in, creeping toward the farmhouse with weapons raised. The rain muffled their footsteps, but every rustle of the wind through the trees sounded like thunder in Sarah's ears. Her breath came in shallow gasps as they neared the building, her mind racing with possibilities. Was it just a scouting party? Or something worse?
As they reached the side of the farmhouse, Sarah held up a hand, signaling for the team to stop. She pressed herself against the wall, listening intently. Inside, she could hear voices—low, hushed, but unmistakable. The enemy was inside, waiting.
Harper moved up beside her, his expression grim. "On my signal," he mouthed.
Sarah nodded, gripping her rifle tighter. The rain poured down, mixing with the sweat that beaded on her forehead. Time seemed to slow as Harper raised his hand, ready to give the signal.
Then, all hell broke loose.
The farmhouse door burst open, and a hail of bullets tore through the air. Sarah threw herself to the ground, her rifle coming up instinctively as she fired back. The enemy soldiers were pouring out of the building, their shouts drowned out by the deafening roar of gunfire.
"Fall back!" Harper shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "We're outnumbered!"
Sarah scrambled to her feet, firing off a few more shots before retreating into the cover of the trees. The enemy was relentless, their numbers far greater than she had anticipated. They couldn't hold this position. Not like this.
As she ran, her mind raced. They needed a plan, and fast. If they didn't regroup and come up with a new strategy, they were as good as dead.
But before she could think any further, a sharp cry echoed through the rain—Rivas, down. Sarah's heart sank, but there was no time to mourn. She had to keep moving, had to keep fighting.
They reached the treeline, and Harper skidded to a stop beside her, panting heavily. "We're not gonna make it to the rendezvous," he said, his voice hoarse. "We need to change course. Now."
Sarah nodded, wiping the rain from her eyes. "Where to?"
"There's an old bunker about a kilometer west," Harper replied, glancing over his shoulder at the advancing enemy. "We can take cover there, regroup, and figure out our next move."
Sarah hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Let's go."
They sprinted through the trees, the sounds of battle fading into the distance. The rain fell harder, obscuring their vision, but they pressed on, driven by a single thought: survival.
As they neared the bunker, Sarah's thoughts turned to the bigger picture. This war—this nightmare—was far from over. The enemy was closing in on all sides, and the world was teetering on the edge of chaos.
But they couldn't give up. Not now. Not ever.