Into The Rift

A One-Finger Salute (15)

"Understood, we'll keep them pinned!" From the shadows, beyond the expanse of trees, distant flashes appear as the chatter of gunfire fills the air.

Empowered by the surge of covering fire, I halt and take up position behind the nearest tree as voices holler over comms relaying information and enemy movements. James bounds past, his lively quirks long since replaced by stringent determination as he quietly surveys our exposed left flank.

Frustration and regret fed right into each shot as I glare through the iron sights. Bright ripples appear with each impact, the sight confusing as it is alarming. The symphony of gunfire expands as James sweeps ahead to add to the barrage.

"Negative impact," Douglas reports, "they're closing fast."

As the situation intensifies, a pang of unease begins to form. The choices fanned out and I consider each one carefully, ignoring the incessant sounds of combat. Hesitation and uncertainty fills my thoughts as I hover over a recent memory.

First contact, that barrier. It was likely the same..

I snap out the reverie and yell out, "Everyone hold fire, wait on my signal!"

"With respect Jerome, that sounds like bullshit," James hollers through comms, shooting a weary glance as he pauses the discharge of bullets.

"That barrier's got to be similar to first contact. Concentrate fire on my mark, make it full auto," I sweep a hand forward guiding his focus back to the front.

"On your mark," Douglas asserts, gunfire now absent from the channel.

The distant rustle of leaves echoes across the newfound silence. False positives shimmered ahead, a blend of haphazard figures barely discernable from our pursuers.

A brief flutter of gold ripples ahead as a lone shoot echoes above the silence. Its source remains unknown, leaving me to ponder about the culprit for only a brief moment.

Right now, we need to put our best foot forward. Again, the familiar shimmer of gold raises a small pang of worry, intensifying the weight of what would come in the next few moments.

Compromising that supernatural barrier will hopefully force them to reconsider their actions. I centre my gaze ahead, the pistol under a death grip and allow a brief moment of clarity to sweep through me. A sharp determination settles in my core, intertwining with the surge of adrenaline through my fingers.

I steady both hands, counting the various silhouettes ahead. If they make it through, close quarters will be almost guarenteed. Anything to avoid putting ourselves in that position, I'll take it.

With a sharp squeeze the first bullet races out and more follow suit in quick succession, "Weapons free!" A chorus of renewed gunfire echoes throughout the forest. Within mere seconds, the pistol clicks and runs dry, leaving me in a momentary lull as I fumble to get a fresh clip into the fray.

The continued salvo from the others smashes into the barrier. It flickers violently with a strong glint of yellow, holding firm to the assault. Confidence slowly gives way to surging panic. The volume of gunfire relents—as did my hope of breaching that barrier.

"God damn," I seethe, sending a spiteful glare towards the seemingly unbreakable enigma.

"We're not making a dent," James bounds over to me, panic brewing in his voice as he reloads.

"I've noticed," I retort with a glare, imparting the frustration with a renewed salvo.

As the ominous figures draw closer, the visor finally registers a reliable count on their numbers. The approaching belligerents are draped in ghostly veils, crossing the dense tapestry of vegetation with a speed that denied explanation. Any attempt to hit them is thwarted by that same damned ripple. They all harbour a haunting glow, only serving to accentuate their agility as they weave through the foliage without difficulty.