#Chapter 129 – Last Stand

The battle is drawing close, now.

Seeing that they had a slight advantage, only two men down as opposed to Rafe’s five, Victor had pressed into the offensive. Even if Rafe had set a trap ahead, his superior numbers should work in his favor.

Victor and his Betas had moved swiftly through the forest, spaced well within the trees, their rifles held at shoulder height, their eyes pressed to their scopes, searching.

They found Rafe’s troops all gathered together like rabbits in a warren.

Rafe’s troops were entrenched. They had found a well-protected area of forest with a stone wall rising behind them and several boulders on either side, perfect for hiding and sniping. Victor did a swift count as he approached – six. Good.

Rafe had collected his entire Beta team together for one final showdown, one last stand. There would be no more scouting and retreating after this; instead, Rafe had put all his eggs in one basket.

This was his alamo.

Victor’s face lights in a feral grin. Good.

Still hidden yards away out of sight from Rafe’s troupes, Victor quickly checks in with his two remaining captains. Swiftly, they confirm their positions, and agree to their route. They nod to each other from across the forest and then, as one, they charge.

They have the element of surprise, but not for long. Rafe’s troupes hesitate only for a minute before they begin to fire.

Two of Victor’s fastest Betas sprint forward, their guns strapped to their backs, knives in their hands, running for the protected area behind the boulders where their enemies are ensconced. If they can get in, they’ll do swift damage to Rafe’s troupes.

The other five members of Victor’s party move steadily behind, their fingers on their triggers, pumping wolfbane-coated rubber bullets into the encampment whenever they have the opportunity.

Victor grits his teeth as he moves forward, taking the furthest position in the line, the most protected spot. He grimaces as he sees one of his runners fall, shrieking, to the ground – felled by an enemy bullet before he can get behind the enemy line. The other takes a final leap and disappears behind the boulder.

Victor listens above the sound of gunshots and hears yells and shrieks from the enemy encampment – good, the scout has done his work. Still, enemy guns are being fired. Victor hadn’t been lucky enough to take them all out with one forward runner, and that man, he knows, was surely taken down.

Hopefully he took out enough of the enemy to make his sacrifice worth it.

Victor steadily stalks forward, wishing he had an updated count. How many men does Rafe have left? He sees shots from at least three guns, one of which must belong to Rafe. If his forward man had taken Rafe out, the others would have stopped shooting.

trial is still

of his own men fall, one after the other. They scream in pain, their cries echoing through the forest, but, quickly, they press their mouths shut, doing their very best to suffer in silence.

the boulders himself now. Almost ready to switch weapons from this assault rifle to a

men are ready for him. A hand appears above the

from panicking.

grenade – how the hell did Rafe get his hands on a lethal

it doesn’t explode into shards of metal and fire, as Victor

their eyes, which had

part of the weaponry arsenal, or else Victor would have used one as part of his own assault. He grits his

he waits for his eyes to adjust again to the darkness. For

retreat, scanning the shadows of the forest that are slowly coming back into the focus, moving behind a tree to see if he can get a better layout

plus me. Against how many? Three? Four

raises his own rifle to his shoulder, stepping out into the open air, pressing his finger to the trigger again and again – sending his own bullets judiciously into the

bullets find their places, one

another of

the corner of his eyes, he sees two more of his men writhing

bullets in

according to his count, in addition to Rafe himself, but only one man stands

as the man raises his gun in his direction, but the man falls and bursts

Betas down. But where the

final remaining Beta is already there, sweeping the protected area, looking

a rubber bullet hitting him directly in the chest. Victor’s body launches into a sprint, his instincts on over-drive, as

thinks, picking up speed as he gives

the two of them now,

Victor slings his rifle over his back – he’s going too fast, now, to give it the careful aim that it needs. He picks up speed, reaching down to his thigh to where his pistol is strapped, unhooking it

Victor is still faster. Steadily gaining on him, Victor raises his

Actually trips –

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