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Chapter 41: Marked Territory

作者: jhumz
last update 最終更新日: 2025-08-05 19:02:36

Dawn bled grey and cold through the cracked windshield of the derelict ambulance van. They’d driven for hours through the downpour, Silas drifting in and out of feverish sleep punctuated by whimpers echoing Dominic’s distant rage, Reynolds slipping into unconsciousness from pain and blood loss. The Sunset Rest motel, marked by Mack’s discarded horror, was miles behind them, but the phantom stench of decay and the carved word "ANCHOR" clung like frost.

Winters found the refuge: an abandoned Forest Service ranger station, deeper in the wilderness, accessible only by a washed-out fire road. It was little more than a decaying log cabin and a collapsing garage, overgrown and forgotten. Isolated. Defensible. A temporary tomb.

The grim task couldn’t be postponed. They buried Mack in a shallow grave beneath a gnarled pine at the edge of the clearing. No words. Harlan stood rigidly at the head, rain plastering his hair, his face a mask of grief etched in stone. He didn’t weep. He didn’t speak.
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  • the bodyguard's secret   Epilogue: Anchor in the Quiet

    **Three Weeks Later**Sunlight, real and warm, streamed through the window of the small, secluded cabin. It wasn’t the ranger station, nor the Crossroads. It was a place Winters had led them to – a forgotten forestry outpost nestled in a sun-drenched valley miles from the scorched earth of the final battle. Untraceable. Quiet.Leo sat on a worn porch step, his hands wrapped in clean bandages. The burns from the purple fire were healing, thanks to Petrova’s relentless care, but the skin was still tender, pink, and would likely always bear the marks. He watched the sunlight dapple through the aspen leaves, listening to the simple, profound sounds of life: birdsong, the rustle of wind, the distant gurgle of a stream.The screen door creaked open. Silas stepped out, moving slowly, deliberately. He still carried a fragility, a hesitancy in his movements, a shadow in his eyes that hadn't been there before the neural torture and the shattering psychic backlash. But the frantic terror, the co

  • the bodyguard's secret   Chapter 43: The Last Ember

    The silence in the ranger station cabin wasn't peaceful. It was the quiet after a bomb blast, thick with the acrid smell of contained dread and Petrova’s antiseptics. Silas lay unnervingly still, his breathing shallow, the blood beneath his nose a dark, dried accusation. Leo hadn’t moved from his vigil at the cot’s side, Silas’s cold hand clasped in his own, as if sheer will could anchor the drifting mind within. The vial pouch sat on the rickety table like a malevolent totem, its faint purple glow seeming to pulse in the dim lantern light.Petrova’s words hung in the air, colder than the mountain drafts seeping through the logs: *"He’ll come for it. The only thing left that was his before the fire."*Harlan finally broke the suffocating quiet. He pushed himself off the wall, his movements stiff, the grief for Mack now overlaid with the grim residue of Shale’s agonizing end and the hospital basement. **>** His voice was gravel. **>**The Ghost stood sentinel

  • the bodyguard's secret   Chapter 42: Scorched Earth, Shattered Mind

    Four minutes.The LED timer blinked: **03:57**. The sterile hum of the HVAC unit became the drone of doom. Martin Shale’s vacant eyes stared past Leo, lips moving soundlessly: *"Purify… cleanse…"* The purple canister in Leo’s hand felt like a live grenade. Dominic’s synthesized voice still echoed in his comms earpiece, a serpent coiled around his thoughts: *"A fitting dilemma for the keeper of broken things."*Harlan moved. Not towards the control panel, but towards Shale. He hauled the whimpering man up, ignoring the shattered knee, and shoved him towards the open panel of the HVAC unit. **>** He jammed his pistol under Shale’s chin.Shale’s glassy eyes flickered with primal fear, overriding the programmed fanaticism for a split second. His trembling finger pointed to a thick, insulated steel pipe feeding upwards from the unit – the primary artery carrying air to the pediatric wing above.**>** Harlan barked, his voice r

  • the bodyguard's secret   Chapter 41: Marked Territory

    Dawn bled grey and cold through the cracked windshield of the derelict ambulance van. They’d driven for hours through the downpour, Silas drifting in and out of feverish sleep punctuated by whimpers echoing Dominic’s distant rage, Reynolds slipping into unconsciousness from pain and blood loss. The Sunset Rest motel, marked by Mack’s discarded horror, was miles behind them, but the phantom stench of decay and the carved word "ANCHOR" clung like frost.Winters found the refuge: an abandoned Forest Service ranger station, deeper in the wilderness, accessible only by a washed-out fire road. It was little more than a decaying log cabin and a collapsing garage, overgrown and forgotten. Isolated. Defensible. A temporary tomb.The grim task couldn’t be postponed. They buried Mack in a shallow grave beneath a gnarled pine at the edge of the clearing. No words. Harlan stood rigidly at the head, rain plastering his hair, his face a mask of grief etched in stone. He didn’t weep. He didn’t speak.

  • the bodyguard's secret   Chapter 40: Aftershocks & The Bleeding Phoenix

    The rain felt like needles on Leo’s face as he crouched beside the groaning generator, Winters’s retrieved vial pouch and data drive clutched in his hand like live grenades. The clearing was a tableau of retreating chaos: mercenaries vanishing into the downpour, dragging wounded comrades, leaving behind the shattered tablet and the chilling echo of Mack’s screams and Dominic’s enraged roar. The immediate threat receded, but the silence that followed was heavier, charged with the aftershocks of revelation and violence.Winters materialized beside him, his expression no longer icy, but carved from flint. The shot through the feed, the wounding of Dominic – it hadn’t been just tactics. It was vengeance for the deception, for the insult to the Ghost’s lethal reputation. **>** His voice was a low rasp, the closest Leo had ever heard to emotion from him. **>**Leo n

  • the bodyguard's secret   Chapter 39: The Anchor and the Abyss

    The silence after Leo’s revelation was absolute. The rain drumming on the roof, Silas’s choked sobs, the frantic beep of the heart monitor – all faded into a distant hum. Leo’s words – *"It’s him. Dominic. He’s alive."* – hung in the air like poison gas. Harlan stared, his face a mask of dawning, horrified comprehension. Winters’s icy composure cracked, a flicker of raw fury in his glacial eyes – the Ghost haunted by his own failure.On the cot, Silas convulsed, not with neural shock, but with primal, soul-deep terror. **>** he shrieked, clawing at the blanket, eyes wide and unseeing, fixed on a horror only he could perceive. **>** Petrova tried to restrain him gently, her own hands trembling.The final second of the ultimatum bled away.Outside, no immediate assault came. Instead, the bullhorn crackled back to life, Thomas Vale’s – *Dominic’s* – voice chillingly calm, amplified by the rain.**

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