Redamancy ✷ Simon Riley

Chap 8)

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
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Poppy dug her mud-stained boots into the parched loam and dirt. They grooved themselves into the surface, burying just enough for her to drag herself forward with her folded clothed forearms. Rigid begrimed gravel and stones that had been polished by soft licks of the frigid rain pierced through the material of her arms and dented her tender flesh into crescent shapes.

Her weapon sat agreeably on its side on her crossed arms that inevitably crushed swords of grass that mother nature herself had sprouted from the topsoil with gentle affectionate hands.

Dargie may have compressed the bright greenery to the bed of mire beneath her body but the tough roots ran free like live veins in a body and contentedly joined with the surrounding nature. Deeper within the ground did the roots hold hands with the dirt and embrace it like an old friend.

Frail verdure traced her body and poked her bare craned neck and rosy cheeks. It brushed tickly against her face like a bird's feather, making her vaguely irritated.

She had more important concerns than silly vegetation annoying her.

Searing bullets were fired rapidly at the soldiers hiding in the grass. Insufferable ammunition flew down the barrels of scoped semi-automatic snipers and barely skimmed past Sergeant Dargie's head.

She shot her head down as a shuddering breath ran up her throat and escaped her parted lips.

She didn't intend to bury the side of her face into the dirt but she wasn't planning on prematurely dying any time soon either.

Tapering gold bullets whooshed by and pummeled the earth, showing no clemency. Her jaw tightened as her heartbeat picked up and roared in her eardrums. Her kneecaps grazed the ground as she briskly maneuvered her booted feet out of the way of speeding bullets.

She didn't honestly want to be kneecapped and be seriously maimed to the point where she would have a limp.

Feeling a gloved hand being delicately placed on the side of her neck, she raised her head and hovered her cheek from the textured terrain to turn and see who it was.

Her malachite eyes landed on the familiar man with the skull balaclava adorning his face.

Mists of dirt continued to burst into the air as bullets buried themselves into the ground and made themselves at home.

Averting her gaze from Simon's for a split second, she glanced onward toward the third building and noticed there was a second sniper that had joined the first. She locked eyes with the brown-eyed Lieutenant who was still staring at her.