Page 48 of Heat Force
Lexi grabbed the small satchel containing her dwindling medical supplies and followed him out into the night.
The trail through the thinning jungle, which led up into the hills, was illuminated by the faint moonlight, yet hidden from the village below. Patrick, Moyo in his arms, went first. He grunted under the strain but kept putting one foot in front of the other. Lexi stayed close, her eyes drawn to the shadows, her ears prickling at every rustle in the foliage.
Behind them, the faint glow of the village fires flickered in the distance. Shouts carried on the wind—angry, guttural voices that sent a chill down her spine.
They were close. Too close.
“Faster,” Patrick urged, between pants.
Lexi pushed harder, her legs burning as she fought to keep up. The trail was gravelly and slick with mud in parts, making her slip every few footsteps. How Patrick remained standing, she had no idea. Branches snagged at her clothes, scratching her arms and face, but she didn’t dare slow down.
A sudden burst of gunfire cracked through the air, sharp and deafening. She froze, looking at Patrick in alarm. “They’re in the village.”
His tone was grim. “We need to keep moving.”
They pressed on, the telltale sounds of the pursuing rebels growing louder. Lexi’s lungs burned, her body screaming for rest, but the thought of what would happen if they were caught kept her going.
Moyo whimpered in Patrick’s arms, his small hands clutching at the man’s shirt. He was scared, and in pain. Lexi’s heart went out to him.
“It’s okay,” Patrick murmured. “We’ll keep you safe.”
She glanced back and caught a glimpse of flashlights cutting through the trees.
Oh, God.
They were closing in.
“Patrick,” she hissed, her voice trembling.
“I see them,” he replied, his pace quickening. “We’ll lose them in the hills.”
The vegetation got even more scarce as they began to ascend, the ground growing steeper and rockier. Her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to keep climbing. Each step brought them closer to safety—or so she hoped.
The gunfire faded behind them, replaced by the relentless chorus of the jungle. Had they lost them? Had the rebels taken a different path?
She didn’t dare breathe a sigh of relief.
Not yet. Not until they were far, far away.
“Almost at the peak,” Patrick gritted, perspiration dripping down the sides of his face, although she wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her or himself.
Lexi didn’t respond, all her energy was focused on putting one foot in front of the other. They couldn’t stop until Moyo was safe.
CHAPTER 22
The sun hung low in the sky as Hawk, Phoenix, Viper, and Edmond approached the village on the banks of Lake Kivu. The air was thick, damp with the scent of rain-soaked earth, but the eerie silence was what set Hawk’s teeth on edge. No voices. No laughter. No bustling movement. Just the muted slap of water against the shore and the faint rustle of wind through the grass huts.
His instincts screamedtrap.
Phoenix, who’d taken point, raised a fist, signaling the team to stop. They froze instantly, rifles up and scanned the scene.
“Clear eyes, people,” Phoenix said quietly, his voice low and measured. “Something’s not right.”
The village, if you could call it that, looked like it had been hastily abandoned. The narrow dirt tracks between the huts were churned up with muddy footprints, and scattered belongings littered the ground—pots, a child’s doll, a half-full water container tipped on its side. There were no chickens scratching for feed, no women’s chatter, no kids darting through the huts. Just an eerie silence.
Viper adjusted the strap of his weapon, his voice a low growl. “Feels like the calm before the storm. Where’s everyone gone?”
“Edmond?” Hawk prompted.