Tree branches arched overhead, the path no more than a scar of dirt and crushed grass winding through dense blackness. The officers stayed silent, headlights still dead, the only light the muted green and amber glow of the dashboard washing over tight faces and focused eyes. The engine hummed low. Tires crunched softly. Seconds stretched into minutes. The second Senior Officer leaned forward slightly, peering through the windshield. “…Nothing,” he said under his breath. The driver eased off just a fraction, keeping speed but listening more than watching. The Senior Officer’s jaw tightened. “They didn’t disappear,” he said quietly. “They can’t.” A Junior Officer in the back seat shifted, craning to look past the front seats. “We’ve covered at least three miles,” he whispered. “No visual. No tracks crossing.” “Which means they’re still ahead,” the second Senior Officer replied. “Or they cut engine and rolled.” “Unlikely,” the Senior Officer said. “Not with

The Senior Officer dropped from the SUV first, boots touching cracked concrete without haste. His rifle came up smoothly, flashlight cutting a pale line through the dark. The others followed in practiced silence, forming a loose wedge as they advanced into the abandoned warehouse yard. “Stay disciplined,” he said quietly. “Corners first. Eyes high and low.” The second Senior Officer moved to his left, lifting a compact scanner from his vest. Its muted display glowed faintly. “I’m reading residual heat,” he murmured. “Recent movement. Multiple signatures.” “How many?” a Junior Officer asked, voice controlled but tight. The Senior Officer glanced back once. “Doesn’t matter. Treat every shadow like it’s armed.” They stepped inside the warehouse proper. The ceiling rose into darkness, beams crossing like ribs. Broken machinery lay scattered across the floor, abandoned vehicles, forklifts, crates stacked and collapsed at odd angles. Their flashlights skimmed over rust, peeling p

“Lights up—tight beams, no sweep!” the Senior Officer commanded. Flashlights snapped on in unison—tight cones of white slicing through hanging vines and wet leaves. The beams revealed steam rising from churned soil, insects scattering, eyes flashing and vanishing. “Maintain spacing,” the second Senior Officer murmured, voice low, disciplined. “Three meters. No silhouettes.” The line adjusted instantly. Boots shifted. Shoulders angled. Rifles rose. They moved in a staggered formation, weapons tight to their bodies, muzzles tracking upward and outward as the flashlights swept trunks, roots, and shadowed hollows. Broad kapok trees towered above them. Lianas hung in looping curtains that brushed against helmets and rifle barrels. Every step sank softly into damp leaf litter, the ground yielding and sucking at their soles. A Junior Officer at point slowed, then stopped. He lifted his wrist. His gauntlet vibrated once. Then again. His breathing hitched. “Sir,” he w

Flashlights bobbed and steadied as the officers pushed deeper, boots striking mud and root, breath tearing in disciplined bursts. Branches lashed at their shoulders. Wet leaves slapped against uniforms. The night air smelled sharp—sap, soil, and the metallic tang of fear. HUUUFF—MRRRROW! The sound rolled again—closer now, angrier, echoing off trunks and stone. The officers stiffened at once. One nearly tripped, catching himself on a low branch, teeth bared as he regained balance. “That’s ahead,” a Junior Officer said, voice tight. “And gunfire,” another added as a sharp crack split the night. BANG! The sound slapped through the trees, sharp and final. Maria flinched violently. Her grip tightened, nails biting through fabric as if she could anchor herself to the officer’s arm by sheer force. “That was near,” she whispered. “That might be close to my son.” Her knees buckled for half a step before the Senior Officer braced her with his shoulder. “We’re moving f

“Yes,” Maria whispered, breath thin and shaky. “Yes… but I’m tired.” Her knees wobbled again. Lewis tightened his grip instantly, sliding his arm more firmly around her waist. He leaned his forehead briefly against her temple, grounding both of them. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Just a little more. We’re almost out.” Maria nodded, eyes closed for a second as she steadied her breathing. Then she forced them open and took another step. They followed behind the officers, moving gradually, boots crunching against damp leaves and broken twigs. The forest thinned ahead, shadows giving way to faint gray light as dawn continued to creep in. Hamilton was dragged between two Junior Officers. Despite his injuries, he twisted his head repeatedly, neck straining as he glared back at Lewis and Maria. His eyes burned with open hatred. He spat on the forest floor. PTEW! One of the Junior Officers jerked him forward. “Eyes front.” Hamilton chuckled low, shaking his head, but