AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sazahk scoffed quietly and a plume of blue peeked out over the color of his uniform jacket. Fal’ran glanced at him, but Sazahk didn’t say anything.
“We are in the eastern quadrant, here.” Patrick tilted the device around to highlight each quadrant. “Squad L is north, H is west, and J is south. The goal zone is in the northeast. So, on one hand, we’re lucky we’re so close. On the other, every squad is coming this way.”
“Good.” Fal’ran grinned. “Means they’ll bring their totems to us.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” Patrick tapped his thumb on the screen, then slipped the dark device back into his pocket. “Alright, this game is gonna start any second now. Sazahk, find yourself a hiding place. Everyone else, let’s get up in these trees.”
They dispersed with sharp nods.
Fal’ran followed Sazahk and climbed up the tree closest to the thick bush he burrowed under. “I’ll watch your back.”
“Keep your radio on the trunk.” Sazahk called from inside, the soles of his boots disappearing into dappled leaves.
Peering after him, Fal’ran could swear he’d turned his skin green, but he’d never heard of a qesh using their shimmering skin to camouflage themselves, so he shook the thought out of his head. He climbed up the tallest v of the Yelt tree and settled himself into it, then pulled out his radio and held it to the branch beside his head. He caught the glint of sunlight off Bar’in’s rifle, five trees over, and made out a shadow on a tree over from him that looked like Tar.
It took him another minute to see Smith, crouched on a narrow branch half a story below, his fingers beating out a constant rhythm on the wood.
“Fucking hell!” Fal’ran hissed and dug his fingernails into the bark of his branch when a deafening siren ripped through the jungle. A flurry of screeches and caws followed as every bird for miles burst from the trees in a panic.
Smith’s voice crackled out of the radio beside Fal’ran’s ear. “And we’re live, team. Hold your positions for now. Remember, this is a battle, not a race.”
Fal’ran forced himself to take a deep breath and unclench his muscles. His every instinct told him to fling himself into one of the enemy zones and hunt down their target. Movement. Motion. Aggression. Patience did not come naturally to him.
As though he could hear Fal’ran’s internal struggle, Smith spoke into the radio again. “Let the other teams pick each other apart. They’ll need to come to us.”
Bar’in’s voice came through next. “How do you know they won’t try to clean us out first?”
Fal’ran clicked the reply button. “Because they think we’re weak. None of them want to waste their first, best shot on us.”
Smith looked up and flashed his white teeth at Fal’ran in a grin. “As usual, Fal’ran’s got the read.”
Bar’in snorted back through the receiver. “He doesn’t need you to stroke his ego, captain.”
Fal’ran smirked. “Jealous, Bar’in?”
“As if. Besides, we all know you’d rather he stroke—”
An explosion rocked their treetop perches and drowned out Bar’in’s snark. Fal’ran’s heart ripped itself out of his chest and he shielded his face against the tree, But the explosion had been too far to send debris to them.
Once he realized there was no immediate danger, Fal’ran grabbed a branch and leaned as far out over the open air as his arm allowed to find his teammates. Bar’in’s muzzle and Tar’s shadow were still where he’d last seen them and Smith still crouched on the branch below him, somehow having kept his footing on the swaying trees. Fal’ran couldn’t see Sazahk, but since the qesh was safe on the ground, that didn’t worry him.
Satisfied no one had plunged to their death, Fal’ran clambered out onto a branch with a rope around it and slid down it to land on Smith’s tree. “What the fuck was that?”
Smith glanced back at him, still speaking into the radio. “Sound off, everyone good?”
The radio cracked through affirmatives from Tar, Bar’in, and Sazahk, and Fal’ran added his own before kneeling beside Smith. “What the hell happened to no live rounds?”
“It’s got to be Squad L.” Smith jerked his chin toward their northern neighbors. “I know their captain. He’s a sapper.”
“So, they’ve mined their zone?” Fal’ran reached around Smith to brace against the trunk, swaying close enough that their thighs pressed together. “That can’t be allowed.”
“No, but they’re allowed to use explosives to remake the battlefield.” Smith's fingers increased their tempo, and Fal’ran sucked in a heady whiff of leather from him.
“So we used rope and wood and they’re using bombs?” Fal’ran snorted. “That’s bullshit.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Smith hit the button on his radio. “New rule everyone, stay the fuck out of Squad L’s zone. Repeat, don’t go anywhere near the northern zone.”
“You just said they didn’t mine it.” Fal’ran waited until Smith released his talk button to argue. “Why shouldn’t we go over there?”
