Page 29 of Beast in the Badlands
Kairon?
My heart kicks into overdrive as I lean closer to the unit, straining to catch every nuance of sound breaking through the airwaves. The static hisses again, and with each twist of the dial, desperation claws at my chest.
“Come on…” My voice rasps in frustration as I race through frequencies—hands trembling with urgency now mixed with hope. If it’s him…
A distorted voice filters through; I can almost make out words buried beneath interference.
“...location… evac...”
I grit my teeth and twist another knob, heart racing faster than ever. This might be it—the chance for all of us to get out alive. But if Kairon needs us—and Emry's not back yet…
I can't let her stay away any longer.
Just then, a new wave of static surges through the comm unit, drowning out everything else—the sound is both electric and maddening as realization crashes over me.
"Fuck!"
The static finally settles, and in the ensuing silence, I hear her voice break through—the tone is sharp, urgent, and laced with a palpable desperation that sends chills racing down my spine.
“Zone Four is collapsing—we need evac or backup now! Civilians and medics still inside! Please—anyone!”
A jolt of ice shoots through me as I freeze in place, my pulse stuttering before it picks up speed, hammering in my veins like the relentless beat of a war drum echoing in a distant battlefield.It’s Emry’s zone, the very place where I know she’s been working tirelessly, putting herself at risk every time she leaves my sight. I can’t breathe. Panic claws its way up my throat, tightening my chest with a ferocity that borders on suffocation as the weight of reality sinks in.
“Shit,” I hiss, the word spilling out like a curse, a desperate invocation of the chaos unfolding around her.
I shove the transmitter away from me, my anger and fear coiling tightly in my gut like a serpent ready to strike. How long has she been trapped in that hell? The last time we spoke, her voice was steady and reassuring; she mentioned patching people up, tending to the wounded with her usual determination and grit. She didn’t say a word about an impending attack. Who the fuck are these assholes, anyway?
The thought gnaws at me relentlessly, each second stretching into an agonizing eternity as I grapple with the stark reality of her precarious situation. The very essence of dread coils tightly around my chest, squeezing with a grip that feels unyielding and cold. I can’t allow myself to linger in this moment of uncertainty, this cruel limbo; I have to move. I have to get to her before it’s too late, before the shadows lurking in that inferno consume her.
I shake my head vigorously, forcing myself to focus, to pull my mind away from the abyss of despair threatening to engulf me. The familiar heaviness of dread wraps around me like an unwanted cloak, but I can’t afford to drown in it—not now, not when every second counts.
With gritted teeth, I shove myself upright, my every muscle screaming in protest as I will my body into action. My legs throb, a dull ache that turns sharp with each agonizing movement, but there’s no time for weakness; not when she’s out there, fighting against insurmountable odds.
I strap on what gear I can manage with trembling hands—makeshift crutches hanging awkwardly from my shoulders,weapons secured tightly at my side, their familiar weight a small comfort amidst the chaos. Each item feels like a talisman against the dark, a reminder that I’m still in this fight.
As I stumble toward the door, each step feels like wading through molasses, slow and frustrating as hell. My limbs won’t cooperate, each movement a battle against my own body, but the thought of Emry trapped in the swirling chaos drives me forward, pushing me through the pain and doubt. I can’t let her down; I won’t.
Outside, the sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows over the ruined landscape. Smoke billows in the distance—a dark omen that tightens the knot of fear twisting within me.
I push through the desert landscape, moving faster than I should risk. The air grows thick with ash and tension as distant gunfire punctuates the silence surrounding me like a heartbeat quickening into a frenzy.
Each step jars my injured legs, sending shockwaves of pain radiating through me. But if I collapse here—if I stop—I won’t make it to her.
And that's not a fucking option.
CHAPTER 23
EMRY
Iblink through the haze of chaos, trying to focus on anything other than the pain lancing through my head. A cut near my temple bleeds freely, mixing with the blood from the young girl I just pulled behind a shattered wall. She sobs, trembling against my side, her wide eyes darting around in fear.
“Shh,” I whisper, squeezing her shoulder gently. “You’re safe here. Just stay low.”
She nods, but the terror doesn’t leave her face. It’s an all-too-familiar expression—one I’ve seen countless times among the civilians who sought refuge in this Coalition med zone. The last bastion of hope for those stranded in this hellhole.
An explosion rocks the ground, and dust rains down from above as the far barracks disintegrate into a fiery mess. My heart sinks as I count our remaining fighters—three of them left standing against a tide of relentless hostility, their faces smeared with ash and fear. The civilians? Maybe ten remain, huddled together like frightened animals, hoping to survive another moment.
“Get down!” one of our fighters yells as another round of gunfire erupts outside. Bullets whistle overhead, stitching through the air with lethal intent. The sound is deafening—aconstant reminder that death lurks just beyond our makeshift sanctuary.
