Page 81 of Broken Sentinel

"Three o'clock, two hundred meters," Vex murmurs.

I focus in that direction, catching what triggered his warning—the faint metallic scent of weapons and the subtle electronic hum of Unity equipment.

"Patrol?" I whisper.

Vex nods. "Small team. Maybe four."

"Standard search grid," Trent confirms, already calculating. "They'll move in a sweeping pattern eastward."

"Options?" I ask.

"Wait them out or circle west," Vex suggests.

"Circle west," Trent decides. "Can't risk them picking up our trail if the rain stops completely."

We adjust course, moving with exaggerated care. The thick vegetation helps mask our passage, but Unity's enhanced scanning technology could still detect us if we get careless.

An hour later, we pause at a small stream to refill watercontainers. I kneel at the water's edge, listening to the patrol's distant movements. They've maintained their eastward sweep, gradually moving away from our position.

"We're clear," I report, relaxing slightly.

Trent nods, though his posture remains vigilant. "For now. But that's the third patrol we've detected since leaving Haven's Edge. They've committed significant resources to this search."

"Makes sense if they know what I am," I say, trying to keep my tone light. "A genetically modified former Sentinel with insider knowledge of Unity operations? I'd hunt me too."

"It's more than that," Vex says, his expression somber. "The pattern suggests they're creating a perimeter. Standard containment protocol."

"They're boxing us in," Trent translates, our Sentinel training syncing automatically. "Limiting escape corridors before closing the net."

A chill runs through me despite the warm air. "How long before they complete the perimeter?"

Trent and Vex exchange calculations.

"Eight hours," Trent estimates. "Maybe less if they've deployed aerial support."

"Signal point is still six hours away at our current pace," Vex adds.

I get to my feet, determination replacing fear. "Then we move faster."

We push hard through the afternoon, sacrificing stealth for speed when terrain allows. My modified body responds to the challenge, muscles working efficiently despite the punishing pace. Trent keeps up through sheer Sentinel conditioning, though I notice the strain beginning to show in his breathing.

As dusk approaches, we reach a rocky outcroppingoverlooking a vast expanse of what was once farmland, now reclaimed by wild vegetation.

"Signal point is just beyond that tree line," Vex indicates. "We're ahead of schedule."

"And the perimeter?" I ask Trent.

"Still forming, based on the patrol movements we've tracked. We have maybe two hours before they close the gap."

"Enough time to transmit and move out," I conclude.

We make our way down to the tree line, senses hyper-alert for any sign of Unity forces. The signal point—a concealed sympathizer relay station—is disguised as an abandoned pre-collapse agricultural monitoring post.

"I'll check the perimeter," Vex says when we arrive. "Make sure we're clear."

As he slips away, Trent and I enter the small structure. Inside, dusty equipment masks the modern technology hidden beneath. Trent secures the entrance while I retrieve Reid's transmitter.

"System still operational," Trent confirms, checking the relay's status. "Power levels sufficient for transmission."

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