Chapter 1103:
Rylie reached down to her waist. She had one flashbang left, taken from a soldier she’d dropped earlier.
She pulled the pin, timed it by instinct, then rolled the device through a narrow gap at the tree’s base, straight toward the man with the shotgun.
“Grenade!” someone yelled.
Light and sound exploded together. Even behind cover, Rylie staggered, her ears screaming as the world tilted.
She forced herself forward anyway, using the confusion to surge out.
𝘈𝘥𝘥𝗶𝖼𝘁𝗶𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝗼𝗏𝗲𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗻 𝗀𝘢𝗅n𝘰v𝗲𝗅ѕ.с𝘰𝗆
She closed the distance. Her knife flashed once, opening his carotid. Blood burst out in a violent spray.
Without breaking stride, she grabbed the shotgun and fired at the last two, striking them before they could steady themselves. The blast spread wide and unforgiving. They lunged to escape, but the impact caught them, sending them down screaming.
The empty shotgun slipped from her hands. There was no room for hesitation now.
A wounded soldier tried to crawl away, crying for mercy, but Rylie drove him back into the mud with a powerful kick to the chest.
Her eyes sharpened as she realized this was the soldier who had tormented Brad earlier.
“You kicked him with your left foot,” she said quietly, breaking her silence for the first time tonight.
Her knife followed immediately, slashing his femoral artery. Blood spattered everywhere, mixing with the mud beneath her.
“Ahhh! Monster! You’re a monster!” another soldier shrieked, clutching his bleeding face as he tried to get up.
Rylie’s gun was empty. She scooped a stone from the ground and brought it crashing down onto the back of his neck. The sound of bone breaking cut through the chaos, clear and final.
The noise of battle vanished, leaving only the rain to mingle with Rylie’s ragged gasps.
She lifted her face to the downpour, letting it rinse away the blood. With a swipe of her soaked sleeve, she turned toward Brad.
Her right shoulder burned where the bullet had hit, every inhale tugging sharply at raw nerves. Her right leg throbbed after the brutal hand-to-hand fight she had just endured.
Rylie’s steps wavered as she brushed aside slick vines. Finally, she saw the gravely wounded man sprawled across the mossy rocks. Her chest tightened, and she hurried forward.
Brad’s uniform was drenched in blood and mud, his left leg coated in grime. The ripped fabric exposed the mangled wound beneath.
He had poured all his strength into shielding Kari, and now, though footsteps drew near, he couldn’t move a single muscle.
Rylie picked up the backpack she had brought and lowered herself to one knee beside Brad. She peeled off her rain-drenched combat jacket, folded it neatly, and tucked it beneath his neck to give him support.
Brad’s head shifted slightly toward her, rain running down his forehead and stinging his eyes. Her chilled fingers brushed the water away, soft and deliberate. Only then did he take in her face—worn and weary like his own, yet strikingly beautiful in a fragile, painful way.
Rylie rested her hand against his cheek and murmured gently, “I’m right here.”
.
.
.