CHAPTER 6:- Fear Of The Unknown

The metallic tang of blood filled calon's nostrils as he navigated the labyrinth aisles of the warehouse. His grip on his firearm remained tight, knuckles white, his heart hammering against his ribs. The flickering lights cast long, dancing shadows that seemed to wirthe and twist, amplifying his growing unease. He moved swiftly his enhanced hearing straining to pick up any sound beyond the heavy thud of his own boots. In the distance, a dark shape lay slumped against a stack of crates. As he approached , he recognized Hank. The mercenary lay motionless, his body still. Calon knelt, his breath hitching in his throat.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he felt for a pulse. A weak erratic beat reassured him . Relief washed over him, momentarily eclipsing the fear. Hank was alive merely unconscious. He whispered into his comm, trying to reach Jeremy, "Jeremy it's Calon. I found Hank, he's unconscious but still breathing." But only static crackled in response. A sudden chill snaked down his spine, a primal instinct warning him of danger. He left Hank, his movements now driven by a desperate urgency, and dashed towards Jeremy's location. The sight that greeted him when he got there sent a jolt of pure terror through him.