White Sand

2

The men poured through the doors in a frantic rush, forming disciplined lines behind each other. I feel my wrist being pulled behind me as Cadell swiftly guides me away from the unfolding scene of soldiers.

"Known for their guerrilla tactics, you most definitely don't want to mess with them," he warns, speaking of the Jerichian army.

We find refuge against a wall in a darkened hallway. I clutch the knife, now stained with the last guard's blood, in front of me.

"So, our initial escape plan is gone. What do we do now?" I ask him desperately.

"Does this mean you'll work with me?" he grins.

I scoff. While it's true that we were both soldiers from the war, the idea of working with him is hard to fathom. Yet, faced with limited options, even considering the possibility of going solo might lead to my demise. With his skills, collaborating could be our best chance for a successful escape without injuries.

"Maybe," I roll my eyes.

He furrows his eyebrows, "It's a binary decision," his voice intensifies, "yes or no."

"Yes," I reluctantly agree.

"Good boy," he proudly smiles.

I will make sure to settle the score once we get out.

Without any warning, he sets off, cascading down the hallway and vanishing into the darkness. Keeping pace with him feels like a game of tag. For someone who was shot, he moves with an unnerving carefree agility.

Reaching the end before me, he opens a door, allowing a brief flood of light before closing it behind him. Does he genuinely want my cooperation, or is he simply playing his own game? I didn't expect him to be an ideal teammate, but staying close is a basic expectation.

Finally catching up to the door, I open it slowly. Just behind it, the black-haired man's back comes into view, and before him lie the bodies of three more guards.

He turns around, "Took you long enough," with that infamous grin never leaving his face.

It feels like he's making a mockery of my efforts. Five guards down with little assistance while dealing with injuries. I am more than capable of handling one. I can't allow his cockiness to provoke me.

"Shouldn't your priority be escaping? Numerous routes are available in this room. We can avoid the guards without unnecessary confrontations," I seize a handgun from one of the fallen guards, checking the barrel and cocking it once more.

"Where's the fun in that?" He nonchalantly shrugs and chuckles.

"This is precisely why I despise your people," I retort sharply, "Always reveling in the act of killing my people, without a hint of hesitation!"

He appears agitated by this, "Oh yeah? Have you ever considered how this whole conflict began?" He approaches me aggressively, "You were the one who struck first, killing a fourth of our population. Did you think there wouldn't be consequences?"

"That's not at all what happened!" I attempt to explain, but he cuts me off abruptly, slapping me across my bare cheek.

"I would know!" He clenches his fist, anguish etched on his face, "My father died in that first battle!"

Releasing his fist, he clutches his stomach again, stumbling toward the nearest wall for support. I cautiously attempt to approach, but he snaps back.

"Don't get any closer!"

At least his irritating smile has vanished.

Despite the tense situation and the revelation of Cadell's personal loss, the urgency of our escape remains paramount. The Jerichian army looms, and my collaboration with Cadell, despite its bitter taste, becomes a reluctant necessity.