Chapter 98

The ranger station felt colder as the night deepened, the silence of the forest punctuated only by the occasional rustling of leaves or distant call of an owl. Amanda sat by the door, her back pressed against the rough wooden frame, gun in hand. Every muscle in her body was tense, alert for any sound that could indicate the approach of danger.

Across the small room, Ron crouched beside Nathan, checking his pulse and trying to keep him comfortable. Nathan’s breathing had grown weaker, his skin clammy with sweat. Amanda could see the exhaustion in Ron’s eyes, but he remained steady, focused, like he always did in a crisis.

“How’s he doing?” Amanda whispered, her voice barely carrying in the stillness of the room.

Ron looked up, shaking his head slightly. “He’s stable, but we need to get him proper medical help soon. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

Amanda clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep calm. The situation felt hopeless. The radio was dead, their enemies were still out there, and Nathan’s condition was worsening by the minute. But they couldn’t give up. If they let fear or despair take over, they’d lose any chance they had of survival.

“We’ll make it,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Ron. “We’ve been through worse.”

Ron gave her a faint nod. “Yeah. We always find a way.”

But the words felt hollow, and Amanda could see the weight of the situation hanging heavily on him. They were both running on fumes, and the adrenaline that had sustained them so far was beginning to wear off. The fatigue was creeping in, dulling her senses, but Amanda knew she couldn’t afford to relax—not even for a second.

Suddenly, a soft thud came from outside, breaking the fragile peace. Amanda tensed, her eyes snapping to the door. Ron froze as well, his hand instinctively going to his gun.

“What was that?” Amanda hissed, her heart racing.

Ron moved silently, gesturing for her to stay low as he crept toward one of the broken windows, peering out into the darkness. The forest outside was still, the trees casting long shadows in the pale moonlight. But Amanda could feel it—something was out there, watching them.

Ron crouched back down, his expression unreadable. “I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean we’re alone.”

Amanda’s grip tightened on her weapon, her eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. She tried to steady her breathing, but the feeling of being hunted gnawed at her nerves. The men they’d killed back in the woods weren’t the only ones. She knew there were more out there, and it was only a matter of time before they found the station.

“We need to be ready,” Ron murmured. “They could strike at any moment.”

Amanda nodded, adjusting her position so she had a clear line of sight to the door. Her finger hovered over the trigger, her body poised for action. But the minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, and the tension in the room thickened with each passing second.

As the night dragged on, Amanda’s thoughts kept drifting back to Nathan, to the blood that had been spilled for reasons still unclear. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something bigger at play—something Nathan hadn’t told them yet. What had he gotten mixed up in? And why had these men been so desperate to take him out?

Before she could dwell on the questions any longer, another sound pierced the quiet—a faint rustling, much closer this time. Amanda’s heart leapt into her throat, her body reacting instinctively as she raised her gun toward the door.

Ron moved beside her, his eyes sharp as he scanned the room for any sign of an intruder. They waited, breathless, as the silence stretched on.

Then, without warning, the door creaked open ever so slightly, the faintest of movements in the shadows. Amanda’s pulse pounded in her ears as she tightened her grip on the gun, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

A figure stepped into the doorway, their silhouette barely visible in the gloom. Amanda’s finger twitched on the trigger, but before she could act, the figure spoke—a voice, low and gravelly.

“Don’t shoot. I’m not here to kill you.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed as the figure stepped further into the room, revealing themselves. It was a man—older, rough-looking, but his hands were raised in a gesture of peace. He wore a worn jacket and boots caked in mud, his face shadowed beneath a hood. He looked like he had been out in the woods for days, maybe weeks.

“Who the hell are you?” Ron demanded, his gun still trained on the stranger.

The man lowered his hands slightly, his eyes flicking between Amanda and Ron. “I’m just someone who knows what’s going on,” he said, his voice calm but serious. “And trust me, you’re in way over your heads.”

Amanda didn’t lower her weapon. “You’ve got about ten seconds to explain before we stop caring who you are.”

The man raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the threat. “I’m the only one who can get you out of this mess. And if you want to save your friend here,” he nodded toward Nathan, “you’re gonna want to listen.”

Amanda exchanged a glance with Ron. They didn’t trust this man, but they were out of options, and Nathan’s life hung in the balance.

“Talk,” Amanda said finally, her voice hard. “And make it quick.”

The man stepped forward, lowering his hood to reveal a face weathered by time and hardship. “Name’s Carter. And if you want to survive the night, you need to know what’s really going on here.”

Amanda and Ron exchanged another glance, the tension in the room thick as Carter began to explain.

The answers they had been seeking were finally within reach—but they might be more dangerous than they ever imagined.