Hermit on the run

Hunting

John POV
I silently waited, listening. The sound of footsteps was audible along with the crackling of a radio.
"I lost sight of him in the fog. Over."
I looked to my left and through the fog I could see the silhouette of someone wearing body armor on his back and chest. He also wore what looked like a helmet, with night vision goggles. He was looking up into the trees.

I aimed and fired at the only point the armor did not seem to cover: the neck. It hit him and he went down, pulling the trigger as he fell. Bullets sprayed up into the trees. I had to move. I got down and reloaded.
Then I ran about fifty meters, although it was near impossible to tell in the fog.
Suddenly, shots began to ring past, so I quickly dove down and crawled to a nearby tree. Standing up against it, I carefully peeked around: luckily, there was only one of them.
I quietly sneaked to flank him on the right, then reloaded and aimed. He jerked his body to the left as I released the shot, missing him by a few inches.
My enemy returned fire. I reloaded; he was getting closer. I whipped around the tree and shot. It hit his chest, sticking into the body armor. He clutched the arrow, his gun hanging by the strap, so I rushed towards him, hitting him with the butt of the crossbow. We wrestled for his rifle. I ripped it from his hands, kicked him down, and shot him twice. His gun was empty. I tried to grab the arrow that was stuck in the armor, but the plates in it must have curved inward on impact, so I couldn't get it out. Then the radio sounded.
"Are you there? Serpent Two, please respond. I am coming to your location. Over."
I knew he would be there any minute, so I started to climb up a nearby poplar tree for a better view. From my vantage point, I saw the man slowly coming toward the location. He saw the body and stopped, sweeping his gun back and forth while advancing. He was just below me. Gripping my knife, I dropped down. He must have heard the branches, because he looked up and fired a shot, missing me by millimeters. I landed on him, the blade piercing into his back, silencing him forever. I then dropped into the cold ground, exhausted. It was then that I noticed I was bleeding from the shoulder—a bullet had nicked me at some point. The adrenaline had been blocking most of the pain.
My wound obstructed my movement quite a bit. I felt for an exit wound with my other hand, but there was none. Annoyed, I swore silently to myself, then staggered along what I thought was the way back to the cabin.
It took about an hour to get back, and the pain in my shoulder was driving me mad! I got to the cabin and grabbed the medicine kit. From there I grabbed stitches, rubbing alcohol, and tweezers.
I went into the bathroom and took off my coat and shirt to examine the shoulder. I could see small fragments of bone or metal. I poured the alcohol over it. Damn that stings! I got the tweezers and started to pull out fragments, some of them bone and the rest of the bullet. Once I was sure all the fragments were out and the bleeding stopped, I stitched myself up and made a makeshift sling.
Then I remembered Mia: she must surely be in danger!