Page 31 of Beast in the Badlands
The rifle feels lighter somehow now—it becomes an extension of willpower blending seamlessly strength driving forward unyieldingly determined survive despite chaos unfolding around me.
CHAPTER 24
RENN
The setting cloaks everything in dim light through the haze of sand and dust, but I don’t need light to see. The chaos of the Coalition perimeter thrums in the air, heavy with gunfire and desperation. I feel it deep in my bones—an instinct honed through years of war.
I push through the tangled underbrush, muscles protesting with every step. My legs scream, but the bond with Emry drives me forward. I can’t let her down.
When I reach the edge of the med zone, my eyes lock onto a transport vehicle parked haphazardly near a cluster of makeshift barricades. Soldiers scramble around it—none notice me yet.
I break into a sprint, adrenaline pumping like wildfire through my veins. My hands twitch at my sides; I can already envision the carnage.
With a sudden burst of speed, I close the distance to the transport. The soldier's head snaps toward me, a Vakutan mercenary by the looks of it, eyes wide with recognition and fear—but it’s too late for him. My fist crashes into his face, bone crumpling beneath my strike. He slumps over lifelessly against the controls.
I throw myself into the cockpit, heart racing as I wrestle with unfamiliar controls. A few flicks here and there—I don’t have time for finesse—and then I slam down on the ignition button. The engines roar to life, vibrating through my bones like an echo of battle itself.
I spot movement outside; enemy soldiers scrambling closer, guns drawn and ready. My vision narrows as I punch the throttle forward.
The transport lunges ahead, barreling into their ranks like a battering ram made of metal and fury.
Metal screeches against flesh as bodies fly from my path—three drop before they even register what’s happening. Blood sprays across the windshield as one man impacts hard against the side of the vehicle—his expression frozen in shock before he crumples lifelessly to the ground.
A chorus of shouts rises behind me—chaos erupts as soldiers scramble to react—but they’re just fodder now. I steer hard left into another group; their startled faces twist in horror as they realize they’re about to meet their end.
The transport jolts violently when it strikes two more opponents—a sickening crunch resonates beneath me as bone gives way to steel.
With barely a thought, I hurl myself out while still moving—a calculated roll that lands me on solid ground just as the vehicle crashes into another vehicle behind me, flames licking at its metal frame while smoke billows upward like a dark flag marking this new battleground.
I rise swiftly to my feet amidst screams and confusion; nothing matters except finding Emry and ensuring she’s safe. A primal roar escapes from my lips—the sound fills my chest with purpose—and charges toward where gunfire still erupts in violent waves around her camp.
Tonight? Tonight, they will know fear unlike any other—a storm has come for them.
I limp through the burning rubble, a blade gripped tightly in one hand, a modified rifle in the other. The weight of both grounds me, anchors me to this hellscape. Each step sends fire lancing through my legs, but I push past it. Pain is an old companion; I won’t let it slow me down.
The chaos unfolds around me like a grotesque dance. Soldiers in Coalition fatigues whirl into view, and they don’t even realize who’s charging toward them until it’s too late. A flick of my wrist, and my blade slices through the air—sharp and true. One man falls with a surprised gurgle, his lifeblood staining the ground beneath him before he hits the dirt.
I catch sight of another Vakutan soldier turning to face me, his eyes widening as he raises his weapon. Before he can pull the trigger, I drive my rifle into his gut—then follow with a brutal upward slash of my knife that carves through armor like parchment paper. He drops without a sound.
The acrid stench of burning fuel and scorched flesh clogs my nostrils, but I welcome it; it fuels my resolve. I don’t care about the destruction or chaos—I’m not here to win a war. I’m here to find her.
My vision narrows as I spot something half-buried in mud: the Coalition insignia, charred and twisted. It triggers something primal within me—a flash of fury that burns brighter than any flame surrounding us.
A shell explodes nearby, sending shockwaves through the ground that rattles my bones and nearly topples me. I stumble but keep moving; there’s no room for hesitation now.
I sweep low as debris rains down around me, firing off bursts from my rifle at anyone who dares to show their face. Each shot is calculated; every squeeze of the trigger feels like poetryamid this violence—a rhythmic cadence that keeps time with my heart.
Another Vakutan appears from behind what’s left of a barricade, shouting orders over the din of chaos—until he locks eyes with me. Fear floods his expression too late; I aim down sights and pull the trigger before he can react. His body jerks violently before crumpling to the ground beside his fallen comrades.
I press forward through an inferno of smoke and chaos, dodging between wreckage as gunfire erupts around me—a symphony of death in which I’ve become an unwitting conductor. My heart pounds with each movement; blood rushes in my ears as adrenaline surges like electricity through my veins.
More soldiers come at me now—three this time—and I throw myself into combat with ruthless efficiency. A stab here, a shot there; each movement fluid and honed from years spent dancing on battlefields like this one.
But something gnaws at me beneath the rage: where is Emry? My focus wavers for just an instant—just long enough for a soldier to catch me off guard.
He lunges from behind a crumbling wall, weapon raised high—but I pivot just in time, knocking him off balance before plunging my blade deep into his side. His eyes widen in disbelief as he gasps for breath—and then nothing remains but silence as he collapses at my feet.
I glance around frantically, scanning for any sign of her amidst the chaos—the faces flash by too quickly; none belong to Emry.
