Unseen | Ghost x Soap

69: Too Long

Chapter 19: Too Long

Morning had broken quietly, a pale light creeping through the dense canopy above. The cold hadn't fully left the air, and my breath still misted faintly as I moved through the forest, scanning the ground for anything that would burn.

The trees were massive, ancient things with bark as dark as charcoal and roots that twisted out of the earth like the skeleton of some great beast. It felt suffocating, almost like the forest was trying to swallow us whole. But it didn't matter. My mind was on the task at hand.

The firewood had to be dry, and in this damp valley, that was a tall order. I'd been lucky enough to find a few decent branches tucked beneath a cluster of thick bushes. I crouched down, pulling them free and stacking them in my arms, my movements slow and deliberate.

Soap had wandered off earlier, muttering something about finding food. He hadn't looked at me when he said it, just pointed vaguely toward the trees and walked off with that determined stride of his. I'd let him go. He needed space. We both did.

Still, it nagged at me. The idea of him out there alone. This forest wasn't just a place—it felt alive, like it was watching us, waiting for us to falter. But I trusted him. He knew what he was doing.

I stood and adjusted the wood in my arms, glancing back toward camp. It wasn't far, just beyond the ridge where the ground leveled out into a small clearing. The thought of the fire waiting for us—the warmth and the light—was enough to keep me moving.

I lost track of time as I worked, moving from one cluster of trees to the next. The forest was eerily quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves and the faint crunch of twigs beneath my boots. I kept my focus sharp, my senses on edge, but as the minutes ticked by, I couldn't ignore the growing unease in my chest.

How long had it been?

I straightened, brushing dirt off my gloves as I glanced toward the direction Soap had gone. He should've been back by now. The pang in my chest sharpened, but I shoved it down. He was fine. He had to be.

Still, it felt like too long.

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. "You're overthinking it," I muttered under my breath. But even as I said it, I didn't believe it.

The morning light had shifted, the sun climbing higher and casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Shadows stretched long and jagged, reaching across the uneven ground like fingers. The air felt colder now, the wind cutting through the trees and brushing against my skin.

I kept moving, gathering a few more branches, trying to distract myself. But my thoughts kept drifting back to Soap—his voice, his laugh, the way he had that infuriating habit of brushing off danger like it wasn't real.

"Johnny," I murmured, his name slipping from my lips before I realized it.

The weight in my chest pressed harder.

I dropped the wood in my arms, letting the pieces scatter across the ground. My jaw tightened as I turned toward the direction he'd gone, my boots crunching against the earth as I started moving.

It was nothing, I told myself. He's fine. He probably found something and got distracted. Maybe a stream, or a good patch of berries. He'll show up any second, grinning like an idiot, probably teasing me for worrying.

But the unease wouldn't let go. It clawed at the edges of my mind, whispering every worst-case scenario I'd spent years trying to bury.

The forest grew denser as I walked, the trees pressing closer together, their branches twisting into a canopy so thick it felt like dusk. The ground was uneven here, thick with roots and patches of moss that made every step deliberate.

"Johnny?" I called, my voice cutting through the silence.

Nothing.

I swallowed hard, my hand moving to the comm unit on my vest. I tapped it, hoping against hope that something had changed since last night. Static buzzed faintly in my ear, empty and unyielding.

"Damn it," I muttered, pulling the earpiece out and shoving it into my pocket.

I kept walking, my eyes scanning the forest for any sign of him. A footprint. A broken branch. Anything. But the ground was undisturbed, the underbrush thick and untouched.

"Soap!" I yelled, my voice louder this time. The sound echoed faintly, swallowed almost immediately by the trees.

Still nothing.

The unease in my chest was turning into something heavier now, something darker. My breath hitched as I quickened my pace, my boots catching on the uneven ground.

"Johnny, answer me!" I shouted, the edge of panic creeping into my voice.

The silence that followed was deafening.

I stopped, my heart pounding in my chest as I scanned the forest around me. The shadows seemed deeper here, darker, and the trees felt like they were pressing in closer, their gnarled branches reaching out like claws.

"Come on," I muttered under my breath, my fists clenching at my sides. "Where the hell are you?"

The sun was higher now, its light cutting through the canopy in sharp beams that illuminated the forest floor in scattered patches. I spotted a cluster of disturbed leaves a few feet ahead, the ground scuffed like someone had passed through recently.

Hope flared briefly in my chest as I moved toward it, crouching down to inspect the marks. They were faint, almost invisible, but they were there.

"Johnny," I said again, softer this time.

I straightened, my eyes fixed on the faint trail ahead. The unease in my chest hadn't eased, but I forced myself to focus, to think clearly. He was out there. I just had to find him.

"Hold on," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.