Chapter 16

The aftermath of the fight lingered in the air, a brutal silence replacing the chaos that had taken place. Alex's muscles still ached with the adrenaline coursing through him, but the heat of combat was quickly fading into exhaustion. He wiped his knife on his pants before sliding it back into its sheath. The cold wind bit at his face, but his thoughts were elsewhere—on survival and the choices that kept haunting him.

The others were already scavenging what they could from the fallen. Frank pulled a rifle from the stiffening hands of a dead soldier, inspecting it before slinging it over his shoulder. Daz crouched near the commander's body, rummaging through his jacket pockets. His eyes lit up as he pulled out a small, folded map.

"What's that?" Alex asked, still scanning the horizon, ensuring no other threats were lurking.

"Coordinates," Daz replied, unfolding the paper. "Looks like they've been tracking us."

"Great," Frank muttered, clearly exasperated. "Means there's more of them out there."

Sarah knelt beside another body, her hands moving quickly as she collected a belt of ammunition. Her face was pale, her exhaustion evident. Yet, her movements remained calm and practiced, betraying no sign of panic. It was her way of coping—methodical, always moving.

"They're not going to stop now," she said quietly, standing up and brushing her hands off. "We took out a squad. They'll send more."

Alex nodded, his gaze shifting from Sarah to the map Daz held. "We can't stay here. If they were this close, more are probably on their way."

"Where to?" Frank asked, pulling his jacket tighter against the cold. "They've probably got every exit watched."

Alex looked out over the distant horizon. The mountains stretched endlessly around them, isolating them from the rest of the world. The range had been their sanctuary, but it wouldn't protect them forever. If these soldiers had found them, others would too.

"We keep heading south," Alex said finally. "Cross the border."

Daz raised an eyebrow. "Towards China? Dangerous territory."

"And staying here isn't?" Alex shot back. "The further south we go, the harder it'll be for them to track us."

Frank sighed but didn't argue. They all knew the truth—staying meant death. The soldiers wouldn't stop hunting them, and the mountains, once a refuge, would soon become a death trap.

As they gathered what little supplies they could, Alex cast a last glance at the dead soldiers. His body ached, and the fatigue was starting to settle into his bones, but there was no time for rest. The mountains were unforgiving, and so were their enemies.

"Let's move."

***

The descent was slow, each step measured against the uneven terrain. The sky above was overcast, a dull gray that mirrored the somber mood in the group. The wind howled through the trees, cutting through their clothes, making every step feel heavier. They moved quietly, aware that they were still being hunted.

Sarah walked beside Alex, her eyes scanning the ground ahead. There was a weariness in her that hadn't been there before, a quiet resignation. She didn't complain, didn't question, but Alex could feel the weight she carried.

After a long stretch of silence, Alex spoke up, his voice low. "You okay?"

She didn't respond immediately, her breath coming out in misty puffs. Eventually, she glanced at him, her eyes distant. "We keep killing. And it never feels like it makes a difference."

"They would've killed us," Alex replied simply.

"I know," she said softly. "But it doesn't change how it feels."

He didn't have an answer for that. He could only walk beside her, feeling the same burden of guilt. They had done what they had to survive, but the toll it took on them was undeniable.

As they trudged forward, Alex began to notice something strange. The ground, which had been rough and rocky, was now growing slick beneath his boots. He glanced down and realized a thin layer of snow had begun to form, almost unnoticed until now.

He stopped, staring at the snow, his breath catching for a moment. Sarah followed his gaze, and they both looked up at the sky. The temperature had dropped without warning, and now snowflakes were drifting down, swirling in the wind.

"Is it winter now?" Alex muttered to himself, his words barely audible over the wind.

Sarah's face was a mask of worry as she gazed at the sky. "We'll need to find shelter soon."

Behind them, Daz and Frank approached, their eyes catching the snowfall. "This is bad," Daz muttered, tightening his coat. "Snow's falling faster than it should."

"Great," Frank grumbled, wiping flakes from his face. "Like we needed another problem."

Alex scanned the surrounding area. They were still in the highlands, the tree cover thinning out as they descended, but the snow made it harder to move. Each step became more cautious as they braced against the wind, the cold biting into their exposed skin.

"We need to pick up the pace," Alex said, his tone more urgent now. "The map showed some structures up ahead. Maybe we can make it before the storm gets worse."

With renewed urgency, they pressed forward. The snow thickened as they went, the flakes falling faster and sticking to their clothes. Their visibility was diminishing, and the temperature continued to drop, making the trek even more dangerous. The once firm ground was now treacherous, slick with ice and snow.

After what felt like hours of slow, careful movement, they finally spotted something ahead—a small cluster of buildings, half-buried under the growing snow. Relief swept through Alex, but he kept his guard up.

"There," Alex pointed. "We check it out. Could be a trap."

They approached cautiously, keeping to the treeline as long as possible. The buildings were small, weathered by time and decay, but they were standing. The roofs sagged under the weight of the snow, and the windows were dark, giving no hint of life inside.

"I'll go first," Alex whispered, unsheathing his knife as he moved toward the closest building. The others stayed back, weapons ready.

The door creaked as Alex pushed it open, his eyes scanning the dim interior. Dust hung in the air, and the smell of decay was overwhelming. But it was empty. Long-abandoned furniture, overturned chairs, and forgotten belongings filled the small space.

"Clear," Alex called back, waving the others in.

Daz quickly started searching the cabinets, pulling out whatever scraps of food he could find. Frank checked the windows, peering out to ensure they weren't followed. Sarah sat near the door, her eyes still scanning the outside as the snow continued to fall.

"We might be able to stay here until the snow passes," Frank said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "If we're lucky, this storm won't last long."

They set up a small camp inside, grateful for the brief reprieve from the cold. The wind howled outside, and the snow piled up against the windows, but inside, they had a moment of peace.

Alex sat near the door, his knife still in hand. He couldn't relax—not yet. They had survived the fight, and they had escaped for now, but the threat was still out there. The soldiers weren't going to stop hunting them, and the snow, while a temporary shield, would only make things more difficult in the long run.

He glanced at Sarah, who had finally leaned back against the wall, her eyes closed. She looked exhausted, drained from the day's events. But for now, she was safe.

Alex stared out at the snow swirling outside, the cold seeping into his bones. He didn't know how long they could keep running, but he knew they couldn't stop.

Not yet.