This sentence was like a clap of thunder, shaking everyone's hearts.
A pair of eyes instantly widened, filled with incredible horror.
Go back?
To face those more than two thousand ard-to-the-teeth pursuers?
With just these over a hundred exhausted, out-of-ammo-and-provisions troops?
This is madness!
Is death not coming fast enough?!
"What... what did you say? Are you crazy?"
An old FOB soldier leaning against the rock wall cried out, his chapped lips cracking again in shock, seeping blood.
"Going to die?"
Another young soldier murmured, his gaze vacant.
Song Heping ignored their reactions, his entire being exuding a cold and determined aura.
"The pursuers! GNA! SBS! They've also been torn by the sandstorm! They're just as thirsty! Just as chaotic! Just as lost!"
His voice carried a penetrating power that pierced through the fog, "Now! Right now! They're more vulnerable than us! They have water! Ammo! Supplies!"
He stepped forward abruptly, the sand under his feet making a harsh scraping sound.
"No water? Then we'll take it! Quench our thirst with their blood! Use their bodies as road markers!"
He shouted, throwing a lifeline to everyone.
"My 4,000 rcenaries are on their way with water! With guns! They've crossed the border and are heading towards the oasis to find us! They need ti! And we need to eliminate the tail behind us! Seize the water! To hold out until they et up with us! This is the only way to survive! Either die of thirst or fight our way out! Seize a way to live! If we don't risk it all, even if my people find us in the end, they'll only find a heap of corpses!"
Every word was like a heavy hamr, striking hard on the soldiers' nearly collapsing ntal defenses.
Under the ashes of despair, the suppressed fire for survival was violently stirred by this extre and bloody proclamation.
Yes, dying of thirst is death, dying in battle is also death!
Why not take a gamble?
Why not tear a piece of flesh from the enemy, drink their blood?!
The shock solidified on the soldiers' faces, soon replaced by a bestial ferocity and a radiant light of despair.
Everyone's chapped lips were tightly pursed, and the primal fire reignited in their muddied eyes, a glow of wolves driven to the cliff's edge, ready to pounce back at the hunter.
Soone subconsciously tightened their grip on their battered rifle, knuckles cracking.
The air beca thick with the strong scent of rust and the sour stench of sweat, mixed with a scent of desperate killing intent.
"Boss... let's do it!"
Disaster Star was the first to rasp out a low roar, drawing a gleaming, polished combat knife from his waist, its blade reflecting a cold glint in the sunset's afterglow.
His face was expressionless, only harboring a beast's instinct to fight for survival.
"Seize the water! Seize a way to live!"
Wrench also stood up, fiercely spitting out the sand from his mouth, his gaze sharp as an eagle, fixed firmly in the direction they ca from, as if already seeing the chaotic enemy and those precious water bottles through the dunes.
"Seize a way to live!"
"Kill back!"
Sporadic shouts burst from the crowd, quickly forming a chorus.
The instinct to survive overwheld fear, and the madness born from desperation ignited their fighting spirit. On faces covered by sand and dust, only the bloodthirsty desire remained.
They were no longer lambs to be slaughtered, but hyenas tornted too long by hunger and thirst, catching the scent of blood.
Song Heping's gaze swept across this ignited group, resting on the rock recess.
General Haftar had unknowingly slightly opened his eyes, those eyes once sharp as a hawk's but now dull and clouded, fixed intently on him.
That gaze was extrely complex, filled with shock, disbelief, and a deep scrutiny as if recognizing the rcenary leader in front of him for the first ti.
The General's lips moved slightly, as if wanting to say sothing, but finally gave an almost imperceptible nod.
It was a heavy, consenting signal.
"Give all the water to the wounded and the escort team, have them head toward the oasis, and we'll turn back and fight them! Everyone follow my command, start moving imdiately!"
Song Heping's command was as sharp and swift as a drawn blade.
The final ten liters of water were carefully poured out, equally distributed into dozens of empty, deflated bottles and all available containers.
Every action accompanied by heavy breaths and greedy gazes.
Song Heping picked up one of the old military water bottles filled with just a shallow layer of water and went to the stretcher.
He crouched down and, with almost rough movents, pried open "Hunter's" cracked and bleeding lips, caked with sand and blood scabs, and shoved the bottle mouth inside.
"Hunter's" body jerked violently, a more intense rasping sound escaping his throat, an instinctual swallowing from a dying man's grasp at life.
The murky water mixed with blood flowed down his filthy chin.
Song Heping didn't even glance at the other dying GNA soldier beside him, whose vacant eyes were clawing at the sand unconsciously.
That soldier was beyond saving.
This was an unchangeable fact.
Giving the water to him would be equivalent to draining the life of another savable soldier.
He quickly screwed the cap tight, shoving it back into his waist, his actions without a trace of hesitation.
Sotis, as a rcenary leader, the heart must be harder than steel!
"Take the wounded! Take this water!"
He lowly roared to the squad leader in charge of escort—a Lieutenant with sunken cheeks but still a determined gaze, "Use your lives! Get them to the oasis! Find water! Then wait! Do you understand?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers