Chapter 93 Carter
Carter
We stumbled deeper into the forest, the roar of engines fading behind us until all that was left was the rasp of our breathing and the crunch of branches underfoot.
River dropped Sable against a tree, the prisoner groaning as his injured leg buckled. Cyclone stayed at the edge of the clearing, rifle raised, eyes sweeping the ridgeline. Gideon collapsed to a crouch, his laptop clutched tight, sweat streaking down his temple.
I leaned against a trunk, chest heaving, blood seeping warm from the graze on my shoulder. My rifle was still steady in my hands, though every muscle screamed for rest.
But rest wasn’t an option. Not now.
“We lost them,” River said, his voice clipped, steady. “For now.”
“For now isn’t good enough,” I growled, shoving away from the tree. “They’ll regroup. They’ll circle back harder. We need to move before they box us in again.”
Sable laughed low, head tipped back against the bark. “You think you escaped? Redwood doesn’t lose sight of its prey. They’re already tracking you. Every mile you run just tightens the noose.”
I slammed the stock of my rifle into his good leg, his cry echoing through the trees. “Keep talking, and I’ll make sure you crawl the rest of the way.”
River’s eyes flicked to me—caution and agreement all at once. “We need him alive, Carter.”
“I know,” I bit out, forcing my rage down.
Because Harper’s face was there, steady in my mind, her voice whispering together. She needed me whole. Not just a soldier dripping with fury, but the man she trusted to come back.
I checked my watch. Dawn was barely past, but the forest already felt like a battlefield. “We head north. Keep low, keep moving. Find high ground and call in for extraction. We can’t drag this out.”
Cyclone gave a short nod, Gideon pushing back to his feet. River yanked Sable upright again, his grip iron on the prisoner’s arm.
I took point, rifle raised, senses sharp. Every step forward was one step closer back to her.
And I’d burn through hell itself before I let Redwood steal that from us.