Ghosts of the Past (A Call Of Duty: Ghosts Fanfiction)

Chapter Twelve

Their footsteps were quiet yet I could still make them out in the night. The group of Federation soldiers split up in an organized manner; it left me holding my breath as they searched the land just feet below me. Rorke stayed at the center of the clearing, the flames of my burning car lighting up his scarred face, thick muscles, and beady eyes.

    Go about this carefully. My thoughts were edgy as I sunk down against the branch further and then lowered myself—my wrist screaming a complaint. My bare feet touched the damp ground in silence and I crouched to use brush for cover as an armed soldier stormed through the area moments later.

    If I managed to sneak around to the backside of the clearing then I'd be able to follow the old road out. It was likely guarded with more soldiers Rorke had posted to ensure that the "prisoner" wouldn't escape. I knew stealth was the only option and, since I didn't have very much experience with combat, I also knew I'd have to use more brains than brawn. With the realization that the enemies around me were all of the latter, I began to make moves.

    I stayed low to the ground as I banked around to the right. The flashlights of the Federation were bright and obvious against the darkness of the jungle-like scenery; avoiding them was rather easy because I could see their placement and the direction they were searching. Their voices also carried through the background of silence as they communicated back and forth over radio.

   I refused to take any of them down unless I had to. One, they were stronger than me with a broken wrist and, two, they had more skill. One alerted Fed and the rest would descend on me in seconds. Rorke, who was pacing around in the center clearing to my left, would be hot on their heels to not only investigate but punish.

    I couldn't allow myself to be captured again. Though the training in me knew to stay until the mission was completed, the logical, more-brains-than-brawn part of me spoke louder. I had to get out of the area without alerting the guards or Rorke.  

    Keeping an eye on the main enemy to my left, I began a slow, crouched walk around the outskirts of the clearing. I could hear the rustling of busy soldiers searching for my presence. I timed their rustles with my movements, allowing me to cover some decent ground in a short amount of time.

    Rorke continued to pace near the fire like a lion impatiently waiting for his prey. His dark eyes glared at the dark trees around him as he strode back and forth. The way his shoulders were held told me he wasn't going to hesitate to kill me and that he was determined to find me to do so. His muscles, though rather old, were flexing with anger and frustration. 

    I shivered and continued to press closer to the darkened road. As far as I could tell no soldiers had really bothered to guard or search the area. I let out a low breath and then darted out of the safety of the trees. My entire form was exposed to the dim lighting, yet I knew I was mostly shielded from the firelight. My legs braced to whisk me away when a snap of a branch caught my attention. 

    A soldier was coming out of the trees, rifle at the ready as he searched ahead of me. I darted to the left, taking to the safety of the woods once more. The soldier's light shifted to where I'd been standing a mere second after I'd disappeared. I released a shaky breath and then pressed to flank him as he padded in the direction of the fire. 

    "How hard is it to find a mere child?" Rorke's voice boomed into the air and I winced, picking up a brisk jog. "Find her! Find her!" 

    I glanced back as the distance became larger and longer. My chest swelled with a bit of pride...a sliver of excitement. Here I was, a rookie, outsmarting and winning against a group of soldiers. It was a confidence-booster as much as it was a confusion-inducer. 

    Something isn't right. 

    "I've spotted movement!" 

    As soon as the words left the words of the posted soldier, a shot rang out through the night. In the same milliseconds, a shooting pain hit my ankle. I let out a cry, tumbling onto the damp ground in a fit of gasps. My good hand shot to my right ankle, feeling a hot liquid gushing onto the dirt. 

    "You thought it'd be that easy," Rorke chuckled as he closed the distance between myself and his pistol. 

    "Fuck," I spat lowly to myself.

    Rorke looked too smug as he entirely closed the distance, keeping his weapon trained on me as if he actually considered me to be dangerous. His chest was heaving as if he was struggling to control an inner monster. His eyes were daggers as he examined the damage he did to his victim. 

    I was shaking, my eyes blind with pain, as I raised my fingers to the firelight. I could see the crimson color of blood from my ankle. The pain was too strong to understand what had resulted from that shot, but I did know it wasn't enough to kill me. It matched the throbbing pain from my left wrist. 

    "Just kill me already," I panted, looking up into the dark, demanding eyes of Rorke. 

    He laughed. "That'd be too easy." He swiftly tucked his pistol away, motioning to his guards. "Oh no, Acker...you're going to live. I'll make sure of it." 

    The way he spoke didn't make it sound like he was making sure I lived because he cared. No, he was going to make sure I lived through this pain and that to come. He was going to make me a project just as Kick had warned, the sick bastard. 

    The guards weren't polite in their ways of forcing me to my feet. I managed to raise my chin once they had me up, forcing a glare to my green eyes as I faced Rorke with a more determined gaze. His thumb came to my chin, forcing it even higher. 

    "I like your spirit Ashlyn," Rorke glowered, lowering his voice as leaned just slightly closer. "We'll just have to see how long it lasts." 

    "You won't get anything from me," I managed, my voice cracking toward the end of my remark. 

    Rorke released my chin with a smug smirk. Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as he squinted. "I'm sure that'll be the case." 

    With a head jerk from Rorke, his two men supporting me forced my legs forward. I let out a low moan of pain and then managed to look back at Rorke. He was proudly looking over the area, his chin raised and chest puffed out. 

    I received a harsh hit to my lower head as one of the guards ushered me forward. "Move it."

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January 12, 2021

Hello fellow readers! It has been a few months since updating and I truly have to apologize. Life forced me to take a break from writing and, honestly, it sucked. On top of that, I really have been needing to focus on one of my other books. However, I'm back and ready more than ever to continue this story. 

I know most of you have been looking forward to an update. Hope you enjoyed this shorter chapter and continue to read as I pick up the habit of updating consistently again! 

Thank you for your support! 

~MS~