The truck's engine growled in a low, steady hum as it sped past, but inside the vehicle, tension simmered. The air was heavy, almost claustrophobic, pressing in on everyone as if the space itself had become thicker. They all felt it, the quiet before the storm, that uncanny silence that only meant something bad was about to happen.
Kellen's hand tightened on the radio, her knuckles briefly white in the dim light seeping through the foggy windows. Her voice, though calm, carried a weight of urgency that snapped everyone's attention. {Everyone stay sharp. We've got movement behind us. Keep your weapons ready.}
Rion didn't need further prodding. His instincts were already firing on all cylinders, his sniper rifle halfway assembled. It wasn't his first rodeo, and certainly not the last time he would have to fend off an ambush in a place like this. His fingers moved like clockwork, assembling the weapon with practiced precision.
He glanced over at Vance, who had shifted from his usual easygoing demeanor to a more serious stance, fingers nervously tapping against his rifle.
"You know, if we make it out of this alive, I'm demanding a pay raise," Vance muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.
Rion smirked without looking away from the murky landscape outside. "Right, you do that. And when she obliterates you with a look, I'll be sure to catch it on video. Maybe even show your stupid face to your lovely daughter."
Vance cracked a grin but it didn't reach his eyes. The humor was just a thin veil, an attempt to keep the impending chaos at bay. He clutched his rifle a little tighter as the truck jolted over the rough dirt road, every bump jostling the already tense passengers.
The road ahead was a mess of fog and shadows, the thick mist winding through the gnarled trees like it had some malicious intent. The trees lining the dirt path loomed ominously through the mist, their gnarled branches twisting and clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. Even the natural sounds of the forest—chirping insects, rustling leaves—seemed muted, swallowed by the oppressive gloom.
Rion shifted his focus back to the task at hand, his sniper rifle now fully assembled. He did a quick check of the bolt, the scope, the magazine, all while keeping an ear out for any unusual sounds. The convoy bumped and jolted over the rough dirt path, the wheels of the trucks spinning over every rock and crevice.
Then came the sound they had all been waiting for, the one that confirmed their worst suspicions: the low, ominous rumble of engines. But not theirs.
Rion's senses kicked into overdrive. He didn't need to see them to know they were outnumbered. The distinct growl of multiple vehicles told him all he needed to know. Five jeeps. Maybe more. And bikes. They were coming in fast.
Kellen's voice cut through the comm unit again, ice-cold and as steady as ever. {Convoy, be advised. We've confirmed multiple hostiles closing in from the rear. Move into defensive formation now. Non-combatants, stay low. Everyone else, lock and load. Heavy gun handlers, to your positions.}
The archeologists and engineers packed into the back of the trucks obeyed without question, heads ducked low between their knees, hands clutching whatever they could find as if it might protect them from the incoming storm. They weren't cut out for combat, but they had no choice in the matter. Heads down, knees tucked, and prayers whispered, they braced for the worst.
The convoy moved like a well-oiled machine, trucks adjusting positions as if they'd rehearsed this a hundred times before. The guards, mercenaries, and even the archeologists—those brave enough—clutched their weapons tightly. Rifles were loaded, safety switches flicked off, and the soft sound of breath being held echoed inside the vehicles. Rion watched the others clutch their weapons tighter, their legs bouncing slightly in agitation. It was in those small moments that the cracks in everyone's resolve showed.
And then, all hell broke loose.
«Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!»
Sharp, staccato bursts rang out through the mist. Rion's eyes narrowed, the fog making it nearly impossible to see where the shots were coming from. The gunfire was followed by the whistling screech of something much worse. All the combatants' eyes widened as they recognized the sound.
"Rocket incoming!" one mercenary shouted from the other trucks, bracing himself against the inevitable impact.
«BOOM!»
His voice was drowned out by the deafening explosion that erupted just behind them. The rocket had slammed into the road behind them, sending a massive plume of dirt, debris, and shrapnel into the air. The explosion rocked the truck, sending it skidding violently to the side, but the driver somehow managed to regain control.
Rion felt the explosion reverberate through his chest, but his hands remained steady, his grip on the rifle tightening. He leaned out of the window, his eyes scanning the fog as his mind raced through the possibilities.
"They're trying to box us in," one of the retainers in the truck growled, eyes wide as he peered through the fog. "These assholes don't mess around here."
"No shit, Sherlock," Vance muttered under his breath, his rifle now raised as he leaned out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of their pursuers.
{Counterattack! Take them out before we're sitting ducks!} Kellen barked, her command cutting through the chaos with an edge of authority that pulled everyone into action.
Rifles popped out of windows, and the convoy returned fire immediately. But the fog was thick, too thick. Shots flew wild, most of them hitting nothing but air or trees. Rion cursed under his breath, with the visibility this bad, they were lucky to hit anything.
Bracing himself against the window, Rion brought his sniper rifle to bear, squinting through the scope, but it was no use. The fog was too thick, making visibility horrendous.
But he had something up his sleeve.
He pulled out a sleek, matte-black visor from his pack, the Advanced Tactical Vision System. The ATVS, as he called it, was part of the preparations he had made for the mission, in case their mission led them to combat at night or places where visibility was bad. It offered greater accuracy, and better still, it was electromagnetic, meaning it could be enhanced by his ability.
"What do we have here?" Rion muttered as he slid it over his eyes, the visor clicking into place as the heads-up display activated. Lines of code and patterns danced across the screen, forming a clearer picture of their surroundings. It wasn't really high fidelity, but it was better than nothing.
Faint outlines of the enemy vehicles emerged from the haze as the system zeroed in on movement. He could see the jeeps trailing behind them, and a couple of bikers weaving through the trees on either side, trying to flank the convoy. They were getting bolder.
Let's see how well you bastards hide now.
He held his breath as he spotted his first target: a biker weaving through the trees, trying to flank them. With his finger tightened on the trigger, the rifle's muffled whizz rang out as he took his first shot.
A scream echoed through the fog as the biker crumpled, their body flying out of their bike in a gruesome arc before disappearing into the underbrush.
"One down," he muttered, adjusting his scope for another shot.
But there was no time to celebrate. The sky erupted with the streaking red glare of another rocket, this one narrowly missing the lead truck and slamming into the road ahead with a thunderous boom.
"Shit!" Vance ducked as the explosion sent debris flying toward them. He peeked out, grumbling under his breath as he reloaded his rifle. "This isn't some random ambush. They're too coordinated. Someone really wants us dead."
"Gee, you think?" Rion growled as he fired another shot, this one catching a second biker mid-turn. The hit sent him sprawling into the nearest tree, his bike skidding out of control. The recoil from the shot rocked Rion's shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on. "Maybe stop complaining and start shooting before we all get blown to pieces."
Vance snorted but complied, leaning out of the window and firing into the fog. The trucks roared as they picked up speed, trying to put some distance between them and the attackers. The sound of gunfire was deafening now, bullets ricocheting off the metal frame of the trucks and splintering wood as both sides exchanged fire. The convoy was moving as fast as it could over the rough, uneven terrain, but the hostiles weren't letting up.
He pressed his visor against his brow again, scanning through the fog and recalibrating the ATVS to keep up with the rapidly shifting positions. The blurred outlines of the trees, vehicles, and enemies sharpened slightly, but it still wasn't enough. He activated his [Normal Mode] to enhance his visual feed as far as he could without overloading it too soon.
He quickly switched to his explosive bullets, firing off a few shots at the jeeps tailing them. The rounds hit their mark with satisfying explosions, but to his dismay, the vehicles kept coming, their armored exteriors absorbing the brunt of the damage. The blasts tore off chunks of metal and sent some of the drivers swerving, but it wasn't enough to stop them.
"Damn it!" he hissed under his breath. The explosive rounds were powerful, but they weren't doing nearly enough to slow down the heavily armored vehicles. He considered switching tactics, quickly loading a few taser bullets into his rifle.
A moment later, he fired them off, targeting the bikes weaving through the trees. The taser rounds hit, arcs of electricity dancing through the air as they made contact. A couple of riders jerked violently before falling to the ground, their bikes skidding out of control.
{Keep up the pressure!} Kellen's voice cut through the comm once again, her orders rigid and unwavering. "We'll never make it out if they break our lines!"
The response was immediate—gunfire erupted with renewed vigor from the convoy as mercenaries and retainers alike heeded Kellen's orders. Despite the barrage of bullets, though, the enemy remained relentless, their vehicles weaving expertly through the mist, the bikes darting through the trees like phantoms, closing the distance inch by inch.
Rion aimed at one of the jeeps, shooting the taser round in an attempt to short-circuit the engine, but the results were miniscule. The area of effect of the electrocution was far too small to deal any real damage to the larger vehicles. Worse yet, it barely affected the drivers inside, as their armor absorbed the shock.
Of course it's still moving. Why wouldn't it be?
He quickly reloaded, switching to his armor-piercing rounds. If these vehicles were as tough as they seemed, then the only way to stop them was to punch right through their defenses.
«Whizz! Whizz!»
Both shots rang out, and the rounds tore through the air, slicing through the fog like a hot knife through butter. They hit the jeep's front axle with deadly precision, and the vehicle lurched violently to the side. The driver lost control, and the jeep skidded off the road, crashing into a tree with a satisfying crunch.
He was about to take another shot when the truck he was on veered sharply to the left, avoiding yet another rocket that came dangerously close to obliterating them. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled the air as another rocket slammed into the ground just ahead of them, the shockwave nearly flipping their vehicle.
Fuck....
Rion gritted his teeth as he selected another target, firing off a Resonance empowered shot as his mind raced. He agreed with Vance's statement earlier. Whoever was behind this wasn't just some ragtag group of Grove bandits. This was a coordinated attack, and it was becoming clear they were severely outnumbered.
His heightened vision picked up one of the attackers in front trying to reload the rocket launcher in his hand.
Not on my watch, buddy...
With a flick of his wrist, he activated [Overclock Mode]. A surge of power coursed through him, his senses sharpening to a razor's edge. Time seemed to slow, each heartbeat a drumbeat that counted down the seconds. He zeroed in on the rocket launcher, his finger tightening around the trigger as he lined up the shot.
«Whizz!»
The shot was perfect. The bullet flew through the air, slicing through the mist and striking the enemy right as they lifted the rocket launcher to their shoulder. The figure crumpled instantly, the rocket launcher falling to the ground unused.
But even with Rion's precise shots and the convoy's best efforts, the enemy was relentless. More bikes and jeeps appeared through the fog, their silhouettes vague but unmistakably hostile. The gunfire was incessant now, the sharp ping of bullets hitting metal mixing with the roar of engines and the occasional explosion.
Vance ducked down again as a particularly close shot hit the side of their truck. "We're not gonna make it at this rate. They've got the numbers, and we're running out of road."