Wild Scandals of a Mercenary

Death by Bear

Blending seamlessly into the harsh mountain landscape, the unit moves as one through blinding snow. Inevitably towards a rendezvous point of extraction after successfully completing assignment. Drips of blood from a wound paint vividly as she tries to pack the gash from bleeding out. The poor man couldn't die on her watch, couldn't be the first casualty.

Slinging the rifle around, Adira hoists him up as he lets out a grunt of pain. Someone else on the team rushes in, taking the man from her. Confusion rakes through bones and with a shake of head it passes. Sole job is to get everyone back alive.

She strides further to catch up, snow lugging their pace to snails. But the group she trained turned with guns drawn. Frozen at the end of barrel, heart lurches in chest.

No words tumbled out as gut wrenched itself into a tight knot. Even if she put up a fight, a one to eight odds meant sure death. Vision flashes hot red, betrayal turning into a beast that wants to claw through throat and rip spine apart. Adira hand selected them all, chose them.

Spent the past three years training each with care to create a bond to rely on during missions. Was it all a farce to them? A way to lure in false security and trust, turn to point a gun at the hand who nurtured. Or was it simply they wanted her position?

She stood watching the snow bury their figures from sight unable, slowly pulling the gun around. Click and she takes aim once they've gained the distance with backs turned. Shaky breath, steady aim as a crack echoes in the mountains. Piercing the heavy blizzard with speed, spraying pure white in splattered brains.

Seven left.

But she never gets another shot off. A low gruff of animal to left makes her head slowly turn, peering in eyes of a grizzly agitated. Swiftly spinning for defense, she thrusts the gun up as shield against claws. Rage.

Bending past red to blend in with white, her reflection so clear in deep brown eyes, if only someone was there. Knocked onto back, head bounces off a hidden rock, making the fight at disadvantage.

Behind the visor, tears fall at acceptance of fate. Wondering where it went wrong. Wondering if she had just stayed quiet and a follower would someone else be taking her place.

Grit of teeth as the bear pushes back, clawing its way through kevlar bit by bit. She prayed for the first time in ten years. Prayed to any God who was witnessing this gruesome death. The first rake of claw tore a scream from throat, ripe and shattering. Body aflame to the point snow could melt as the second and third come.

"I don't want to die alone." She gazed into the sorrowful eyes of bear, coughing up deep maroon. "It's not your fault."

Why was she wasting breath, causing herself pain to let the creature know? Maybe it was some desperate attempt to connect with another being before drifting into nothing. Ragged breaths escape hot, not daring to peek at the spewed mess of stomach.

Please.

A pitiful plea heard by no one.

Not even the bear lumbering off in whirlwind of snow. Her grips slackens on gun, gurgling for sweet relief of pain while staring into bleakness. Flesh would freeze, her body would be preserved in the snow for no one to find. Hands tremble at the thought.

With her mother gone ten years prior, her father recently passing of cancer, who would look? Who would care?

Fate most torturous waiting to die. If she could muster strength to figure out a way, sweet relief would come in the form of bullet. But no matter how hard signals sent to legs went, they remained plastered in numbness. Her shaking fist clenches, begging a God to end it.