2026-09-21 22:04:05
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Chapter 192: Iron convoy
Asher stood on the running board of the lead transport truck, scanning the dirt road through a set of black field binoculars he had taken from the cab. Down in the valley floor, three miles past the ridge line, a Syndicate fuel depot sat guarded by low concrete walls and a single timber watchtower. "They have not doubled the guard yet," Asher said, stepping down into the loose gravel beside the truck's heavy front bumper. "The gate is wide open and the patrol cars are lined up at the pump rack." "They still think the ridge unit is holding the pass," Camila said, hopping out of the driver side with her rifle slung low across her hip. "We have the sun behind us. We can roll straight down the access lane before they recognize these vehicles." Kaelen jogged up from the secondary transport, carrying a wooden crate of rifle ammunition under his arm. "Garrett's three men are locked into the back of the heavy truck. They are ready to handle the side doors." "How is Michael holding u
Chapter 191: The upper ridge
Asher crouched in the wet ditch at the base of the dirt incline. Cold mud soaked through the knees of his trousers. Beside him, Camila kept her rifle low against her shoulder. Her eyes stayed fixed on the two black Syndicate transport trucks parked side by side across the narrow mountain pass. “They are unspooling a tripod gun,” Camila whispered. She pointed toward three guards carrying a heavy steel weapon assembly from the back tailgate. “If they bolt that iron down, we will not get past this bend.” “Garrett and Kaelen are in position above the high bank,” Asher said. He checked the hammer on his revolver. “When Kaelen drops the flare, we hit the driver side.” “Is the road behind them open?” Camila asked. She slid a spare cartridge into her rifle chamber. “The ridge drops straight off on the right,” Asher replied softly. “They have nowhere to turn those heavy trucks around if we block the front.” Up on the rocky ledge overlooking the road, a dry pine branch snapped sharp
Chapter 190 The iron tavern
Asher pushed open the heavy oak door of the tavern. He stepped inside as the scent of roasting meat and stale beer filled his lungs. The low room was packed with rough men and women sitting around battered pine tables. Their voices rumbled over the sound of a crackling stone hearth. “Keep your hand near your belt,” Camila whispered. She stepped in right behind him while her eyes swept the crowded floor. “Half these folks look like they fled a Syndicate labor camp yesterday.” “Which means they know how to handle a rifle,” Kaelen said softly. He held Michael by the hand as they moved toward an empty wooden booth in the back corner. “Sit near the wall, Michael,” Asher said. He pointed to the dark wooden bench. “Keep your eyes on the front entrance.” “I am watching the door, Asher,” Michael said. He slid deep into the corner shadow. “Are we buying food here?” “We get food and we get answers,” Asher replied. He slid onto the opposite bench while Camila sat beside him. A thick
Chapter 189: Southern reach
The old trawler cut through the gray morning mist. Its diesel engine chugged in a steady, low thrum. Dense fog rested heavy on the black ocean water. It hid the coastline from view, but the smell of damp earth told Asher the land was getting closer. “The wind is shifting south,” Camila said. She leaned against the wooden railing on the upper deck. She kept her rifle rested over her arm, her eyes scanning the fog. “We have been on this water for four hours.” Asher walked up beside her. His coat collar was pulled tight against the freezing spray. “The captain says the southern bay is two miles out. We hit land before the sun breaks the clouds.” “What is at the southern bay?” Kaelen asked. He stepped out from the small steering cabin with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Is it another Syndicate town?” “No,” Asher said. He turned to face him. “It is an open trading post called Iron Dock. No Director, no garrison, just smugglers, fishermen, and runaway labor.” “Sounds like ou
Chapter 188: Shell creek docks
Camila killed the truck engine half a mile before the track hit the salt marshes. The small off road vehicle rolled to a silent stop beneath a dense canopy of coastal pines, hidden from the main road by high sand dunes and wild grass. "We leave the truck here," Asher said, unbuckling his strap and opening his door without making a sound. "If a Syndicate patrol comes down the highway, they will spot the tires in a second." "Is the harbor close?" Kaelen asked, lifting Michael out of the back seat and setting him down on the soft needle floor of the forest. "Just over that dune line," Camila said, carrying her rifle low against her leg as she checked the dark path ahead. "Listen. You can hear the wooden pylons creaking in the tide." "Michael, hold onto my jacket," Kaelen whispered, taking the boy by the hand as they moved through the damp scrub grass. "Watch your feet. The wet seaweed on these rocks is like ice." "I am stepping right in your tracks, Kaelen," Michael said, his
Chapter 187: The Coast
The small off road vehicle sped along the narrow dirt highway, its headlights cutting through the heavy coastal fog that rolled off the cliffs. Below them to the right, the ocean crashed against jagged black rocks, while to the left, dense pine forests stretched up into the pitch black mountains. "Keep the speed steady, Camila," Asher said, leaning close to the side mirror to scan the empty road behind them. "If Miller had any scout units patrolling the perimeter, they will be heading for this coastal pass." "The road is clear for now," Camila replied, her hands gripping the wheel tight as the vehicle rounded a sharp curve. "How far until we hit the first border check?" "Ten miles," Asher said, reaching down to check the brass cartridges in his coat pocket. "The Syndicate maintains a small toll house where the highway meets the lower marshland." "Will they know about the regional compound falling?" Kaelen asked from the back seat, wrapping a dry wool coat around Michael's sh
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