GHOST - No Man's Land

/CHAPTER 05

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[Rebecca]

My heart pounded a million miles a second. Price's hand hovered over the doorknob. The ground shook, the walls of the safehouse cracking before our very eyes. 

Ghost was behind me. I could feel his large presence looming over me, his hand resting on the wall above my head. I couldn't stand him, but right now fear overpowered everything, and all I could think of was that he was my only shot at safety. 

I didn't know where we were going. Not after the helicopter, at least. 

It played like a mantra in my head. The uncertainty of it all grinded on my consciousness, sending a jittery buzz down to my fingertips. I was restless. 

Ghost, in stark contrast, stood calmly behind me as he waited for Price's signal. I peered behind me and his eyes moved from Price to mine, only for a second. Behind them was steel. No anger, or indignation, or even resentment like before. 

I looked away and willed myself to mimic him. I took a deep breath, shakily, and refocused myself. All I had to do was follow. 

My handheld camera sat snugly in a pouch I managed to sling around my waist. It brought an odd sensation of familiarity in the constant panic I'd been finding myself in.

Price pushed the door open and took point. 

Rifle raised, scope sweeping the immediate vicinity, scanning the staircase leading to the floor above us. It looked empty enough. 

A quick tilt of his head, and that was enough for Gaz to follow behind him, his movements as fluid as Price's. They communicated wordlessly. Ghost signed something behind me, and Price nodded in response. 

Then we moved. 

The edge of my bulletproof vest dug uncomfortably on my upper thighs when I followed Gaz up the stairs. Price held up a hand, and the men pressed themselves against the wall as Price scouted the area ahead. I followed quickly, but the lack of training on my part was painfully obvious. 

Price gestured once again, and we advanced through a narrow hallway. 

I felt like throwing up. 

Soap covered the back, yet the open space behind us felt daunting enough for me to glance back every so often. Each time I did, I was met with Ghost's piercing stare. His eyes narrowed at me then his head gestured to the front. 

'Don't look back'. 

I wasn't certain whether it was meant to be comforting or cautionary. 

Gunshots filled the air. My knees weakened, and I was certain I would have toppled over in shock as bullets embedded themselves in the wall right above me. 

A hand pulled me into a nearby passage by my vest. I looked up in a daze as Ghost held me up against the wall. From my side, I heard the rest returning cover fire, and worse, bodies dropping at the very end of the hallway where the shots had come from first. 

My breathing quickened by the second. 

Ghost wasn't looking, he was studying me. I felt his eyes roam over my entire body, before his gloved hand gripped my chin and moved my head from side to side. Then, he moved my hair out of my face, before dropping his hand and returning his grip to his rifle.