SHADOWS OF SURVIVAL

“Hide.” Rafe warned Derek as he slid close to a tree. Derek also pressed against another trunk as bullets kept ripping through the air toward them.

Rafe scanned around until his eyes finally landed on the shooter.

He pulled out his gun and fired toward the position, but he still missed as bullets continued flying in their direction.

Rafe steadied his grip, aimed again, and fired. The bullet went straight into the shooter’s head, killing him instantly.

“Now!” Rafe said, grabbing Derek’s hand as they moved silently through the forest.

Then they spotted a place lit by a truck’s headlights.

“Hide here, let me take a look,” Rafe whispered, heading toward it while keeping to the shadows between the trees.

They were masked men, about five of them in the truck. Three removed their masks while two still wore theirs.

“We’ll make sure to get them tomorrow,” one said.

“I feel sleepy already,” another yawned. Rafe stayed still, watching from the dark. One of them climbed down and walked toward a darker spot, farther from where Rafe hid, and began urinating.

“Best time to strike,” Rafe muttered as he moved quietly behind him, clamping a hand over his mouth and gripping his neck, twisting hard.

The masked man struggled in Rafe’s hold but failed. He reached for a blade at his waist and tried stabbing Rafe, but Rafe twisted his arm and turned the blade into him instead. The man cried out in pain, but Rafe’s hand stayed sealed over his mouth.

Rafe grabbed the rope from the man’s waist and tied his mouth, then dragged him deeper into the forest, ignoring the pain burning in his own feet. Reaching a quiet hidden path, he removed the man’s black jumpsuit and mask and wore them.

He stabbed the man again until he was certain he was dead, then returned toward the truck, acting like one of them. As he approached, he noticed one man standing guard while the remaining three slept inside.

“Hey, you got me worried! What took you so long?!” the man asked, staring at Rafe.

“Sorry. Thought I found them, but they weren’t the ones,” Rafe replied, forcing his voice to sound natural.

The man studied him suspiciously, but Rafe walked to the truck and climbed in beside the others, two of them snoring loudly.

He shut his eyes while the man followed and stayed awake, watching him.

Rafe began snoring softly. The man leaned closer, placing his hand on Rafe’s mask, about to lift it. Rafe turned in his sleep and snored louder.

“Grrrrrr-hrrr-grrrr…”

The masked man stepped back, waited, then tried again, but Rafe caught his wrist and opened his eyes.

“Aren’t you asleep?... You seem different” the man said.

“I’m fine,” Rafe answered, releasing him and closing his eyes again.

The man tried to stay awake, but sleep dragged him under and soon he snored too.

Rafe opened his eyes and saw they were all asleep. He quietly took the pistol hanging on one man. He moved to the suspicious one and touched him lightly, but the man only snored deeper.

Rafe climbed down, checked the driver’s seat, and saw no one there, though the key remained.

He returned to the back of the truck, cocked both pistols, aimed at two foreheads, and fired. The sound woke the last two, blinking in confusion, but Rafe shot them before they could react.

He exhaled deeply and began dragging their bodies from the truck.

“Time to find that mister,” he muttered.

He removed his mask and returned to where Derek waited. Derek was shaking against a tree when he saw him.

“Please… please,” Derek begged, hands clasped and eyes shut.

“Keep low, mister. It’s me. We need to move,” Rafe whispered, pulling him. Only then did Derek recognize him.

They reached the truck and Rafe started the engine, driving through the dark forest.

They went farther until they spotted about five men on the path, their truck blocking the road.

“This must be the way out,” Rafe said, turning to Derek.

“I’ve got a plan.” He grabbed a thick rope beside him.

*****

Their truck rolled toward the men. When the headlights hit them, their eyes snapped up and flashlights flicked on.

Rafe, masked, stopped in front of them.

“Active Men Two,” one said, seeing him. “Where are you headed?” He shone his light at Rafe and noticed a body.

“Active Men One. Killed one. Taking body for evidence,” Rafe replied, pointing at Derek, who lay still and breathless.

“Evidence?” one asked, stepping closer with his flashlight.

Another spoke into his walkie-talkie while approaching.

The first opened the truck door and grabbed Derek, turning his face into the light, but Derek didn’t react. The man pulled a blade from his waist, the same black jumpsuit uniform.

He lifted the blade, about to stab Derek.

“Stop,” Rafe warned coldly, locking eyes with him.