The Winter War

Chapter Thirteen

Greenville, North Carolina

            Footsteps crunched on the dry needles and dead leaves. Running footsteps all around him as the dozen feet trampled the dead foliage and snapped sticks while they ran through the forest. A pine branch came up fast and slapped him in the face, bringing tears to his eyes. Spinnaker pushed through them and continued to run, leaping over a sizeable fallen log and trying to keep up with the rest of his team.

            For two days a team of Kings Guards had pursued them across North Carolina after a traffic stop went wrong. They were in a pair of stolen trucks with firewood in the back covering their weapons and equipment when one of the Druidth Military Police recognized Spinnaker. Esposito reacted and shot the man dead with a concealed pistol and they managed to get away but the local garrison still got wind of their presence and word of their executions in the forest had spread far and wide; with the bit about the Druidth and Loyalists burning and burying civilian bodies conveniently left out.

            Now, with half their team dead and still being chased by elite soldiers the Ghosts were making a mad dash for the coast in an effort to get a boat and maybe reach the POTUS fleet. A long shot, no doubt, but at this point it was all they had left.

            Plasma flew past his head, hitting a tree and setting the lower branches on fire. Flames licked up the dry bark and tried to jump to the next tree. Spinnaker turned and fired wildly into the trees, not knowing if he hit anything or not. Nothing came back at him so he took it as a good sign, turning on his heel he resumed his mad dash. Someone, he couldn't see who as he ran by, was setting up a Claymore mine among some bushes.

            Spinnaker felt naked without his armor, he'd grown too use to it and when they had to leave it behind in favor of mobility and speed he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass. Now, he wasn't sure if he would feel the bolt of plasma hit him and feel the burn or just arrive at Heaven's gates, not knowing what happened.

            Gunfire behind him combine with the whine of plasma rifles announced someone who had either fallen behind or had stopped to hold of the pursuers to give their comrades a chance.

            A clearing rapidly approached and Spinnaker came to a stop behind a large tree, panting so hard he was making a cloud just from the fog from his breath. "Espo, you there?"

            "Yeah, Boss," Esposito replied from across the clearing and behind his own tree. "I think Jordan stayed behind."

            So that's who was holding them off. "Right. How much farther to the coast?"

            Esposito checked his map and tried to cross reference their location but all around them was nothing but thick forest so he couldn't find a reference point. If they had simply ran in a straight line then he could find out roughly where they were. But straight lines only belonged on paper; since they abandoned their vehicles on the road they had zigzagged across the forest and a few local farms before coming to this point.

            "If we are where I think we are," Esposito answered after a few minutes. "About five kilometers from the coast. But that's the problem: we five away from the coast and maybe twelve away from a port where a suitable boat might be."

            "One thing at a time, Espo, one thing at a time."

            The sound of the claymore going off rolled through the forest, ceasing whatever conversation they had. Spinnaker lifted his weapon and aimed it around the side of the pine. A thick branch, covered in green needles, partially blocked him from view and hopefully giving him enough of an edge to drop one or two of them before they saw him.