Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 6 - Claire

Day 6

The van rumbled softly beneath Claire as they coasted along the deserted road, the muted glow of early dawn casting long shadows over the empty stretch ahead. In the dim interior, every hum of the engine, every creak of the van's frame, felt amplified. Yet it wasn't the sounds of the road that held her focus—it was the constant presence hovering just at the edge of the rearview mirror. The black SUV that had been following them for miles loomed there, an unsettling shadow that seemed to match their every turn, every mile.

Claire's eyes narrowed, tracking its subtle movements. A chill prickled over her skin, a visceral sense of danger settling over her like a second skin. Her voice, low and steady, broke the silence.

"Looks like we're not alone," she murmured, her gaze never leaving the mirror.

Paul, slouched comfortably in the passenger seat, straightened, following her line of sight. A quiet curse escaped him, his eyes narrowing as he took in the trailing SUV. "We've got ourselves a shadow, alright," he muttered, a flicker of tension tightening his features.

Aiden, gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he took in their tail. "We'll need to stop soon, or we won't make it to the airport. Let's fuel up quick and get back on the road before they make a move."

They pulled into a nearly deserted gas station just off the main road, its flickering neon sign casting a greenish glow over the cracked pavement and empty pumps. Claire scanned their surroundings as they coasted to a stop, noting the silence that blanketed the station, an unnatural stillness that heightened her every sense. In the rearview mirror, she saw the SUV pull in, parking a little ways back. Her pulse quickened, every nerve on alert as she caught a flicker of movement at the edge of the lot.

Figures emerged, stepping from the shadows between the gas station and the nearby trees, their movements precise, purposeful. Their sharp, calculating steps marked them as anything but ordinary. She could sense the practiced caution in their approach, the subtle angles they took to flank the van, each movement deliberate.

Templars.

"Stay close," she murmured, her tone all business. She unbuckled herself, slipping out of the passenger seat, her hand instinctively reaching for the weight of her pistols strapped to her sides. These weren't the days of swords and steel like her ancestor, Amelia—no, Claire's world was modern, and she was ready.

Paul nodded, his eyes meeting hers with a grim understanding. "We'll cover you," he said, already moving to take position by the front of the van, his weapon at the ready. Aiden gave her a nod, slipping out of the driver's seat, his stance tense but prepared as he scanned the encroaching figures.

Claire inhaled, steadying herself as the familiar, ice-cold clarity of a mission washed over her, narrowing her focus. The van was parked behind her, the fuel pump abandoned as she melted into the shadows, pressing her back against the metal column by the pump.

With a silent, practiced motion, Claire slipped her pistol from the holster strapped across her chest, feeling the familiar weight settle in her grip. She reached into a slim slot on her vest, extracting the sleek silencer. Her hands moved quickly, twisting the silencer onto the barrel of her gun, her fingers steady despite the adrenaline beginning to pulse through her veins. The world around her narrowed, and as she pressed her back against the cool metal of a nearby column, her eyes scanned the dark expanse of the gas station.

The Templars were closing in, spreading out across the lot with military precision, each step calculated, each movement smooth. Their eyes swept the area, unaware of her presence, but she could sense the deadly intent in the way they moved, the way they covered each other's angles. Seven of them, all intent on surrounding the van. They hadn't drawn their weapons yet, but she knew they were armed, likely waiting to get close enough to strike hard and fast.