"Take your positions, now!" Enzo's voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. It wasn't up for discussion.
Armanda reached out silently, grasping André's wrist. "Come on… we don't need to provoke him now." A brief, wordless exchange passed between them. Just silent understanding.
André freed his hand gently, and followed her with heavy steps, as if the ground itself was watching them.
They spread out around the cabin in tense silence; among the rocks, behind the trees, like shadows waiting for the moment to strike. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
André held his ground, his gaze darting between Armanda and Logi. Both of them moved with a strange confidence, every gesture measured, every movement rehearsed. How do they stay so calm?
He gripped his weapon tightly. I can't just stand here… I have to be ready. Every second could be the last. He took a deep breath. His chest rose slowly, his heart beat rapidly, drumming against his ribs as if it wanted to escape. Sweat trickled down his neck, stinging his cold skin.
Just then, Enzo raised his rifle. A faint, wicked smile touched André's eye before he heard the sound. "Alright… let's see who dares to survive."
Crack!
The bullet shattered the cabin window, hitting one of the men directly in the head.
Immediate chaos erupted among them, scrambling for cover behind whatever was available, trying to ready their weapons to return fire. "It's the enemy!" one of them shouted, pointing towards the top of the valley.
Gunfire exploded from every direction. Bullets rained down like fire, the air shook with the sound of explosions, every shadow moved, every rock or tree could become a wall or a trap.
André swiveled his gaze rapidly, trying to read every movement, every weakness, every opportunity. One wrong step… could be the last… I have to move… now.
André was hiding behind a massive rock, watching from a sharp angle as the bullets pelted the area at lightning speed. The scene looked to him like a deadly rainstorm, every shot swooping down, every movement threatening. He glanced down at the weapon in his hand; a look of despair and cold calm painted his face, while his grip tightened on the cold metal. I have to do something too… I have to pull this damned trigger.
On the other side, Armanda moved with unbelievable lightness and amazing speed. Every bullet from her weapon was accurate, every target falling motionless. Logi, despite losing one of his eyes, displayed remarkable skill; bullets flew out with amazing speed and accuracy, and after each shot, he would turn quickly towards Armanda, making sure everything was going as it should.
After a long hesitation, André finally rose, raising his trembling weapon. His eyes were sunken in deep darkness, shrouded by layers of fear and confusion. He scanned the area with nervous eyes, searching for a target to shoot at.
When his eyes fell on one of the attackers, he raised the weapon slowly and put his finger on the trigger. He clenched his teeth tightly, his hands shaking violently. Come on… pull it… pull it, you coward!
Crack!
The air vibrated for a moment, then silence returned, swallowing everything.
The bullet pierced the target's shoulder, his body shrinking suddenly before collapsing to the ground, writhing in pain. The echo of the shot reverberated in André's ears, and little by little every other sound faded.
All that remained was a sharp ringing that pounded his skull, as if a hidden hammer was dancing inside his head. The world around him didn't stop, but he couldn't hear it anymore. The fighting was still raging, the bullets were flying, the bodies were moving, the screams were mixing with the dust… and yet, to him, everything seemed silent… as if reality had frozen in a heavy, breathless void.
His breaths came in gasps. Sharp panting, spaced out sobs, and a chest rising and falling violently. His hands were trembling, his grip tightening on the weapon, and his feet barely holding him. The terror was no longer a passing feeling, but a small entity living in his heart, preventing him from moving. All he could do… was to remain crouching, watching, waiting, like a dead man who hadn't been buried yet.
On the other side, Enzo was his complete opposite. Steady eyes, a sharp, blade-like focus. The smile that was drawn on his face was nothing but a mask hiding behind it the pleasure of killing.
He was watching the bald man, stalking him with the patience of a hunter. And as soon as he saw the edge of his head peeking out from behind the wall… he pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced his skull with amazing precision. One moment, then the body retreated back, and fell in the middle of the cabin without a sound.
A wider smile stretched across Enzo's face. He laughed in a coarse, broken voice, dripping with the madness of control. "Finally…" His voice mingled with the smell of gunpowder and blood. "Your shiny skull is mine now."
Panic swept through the cabin. The remaining men raged, running randomly. Their voices rose everywhere: "Our leader is down! He's been killed!"
Outside the cabin, one of the surviving guards slipped silently, carrying a weapon equipped with a missile. He raised the weapon towards the hill, pulling the trigger without hesitation. The missile launched, hitting the hill directly. The ground shook under everyone's feet, and rocks flew in every direction, and thick smoke rose to cover the sky.
Armanda felt the vibration under her feet, the ground suddenly collapsing from under her. Her eyes widened, the whole world shaking before her. She whispered in a shocked voice: "What… ?!"
She saw everyone around her rising, but she quickly realized that she was the one falling down. Her eyes turned to Logi, to see his features for the last time, shock filling his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Her hand rose in the air, desperately searching for anything to hold on to, her legs slipped, and her body followed her, then she fell down.
Logi couldn't control himself. He came out of his hiding place, screaming at the top of his voice, running quickly towards the hole: "Armandaaaa!"
But not even a second passed before a bullet pierced his chest. He froze for a moment, blood gushing from his mouth, collapsing onto his knees, but his eyes remained fixed on the hole that had swallowed Armanda. He tried to walk towards it on his knees, crying to himself: "I have to go… I have to save Armanda! But before he could cover any distance, he lost his balance and slipped, falling face first on the ground, unable to move."
At that moment, André stood in his place, trembling with indescribable terror. His eyes moved to the hole that had swallowed Armanda, then his gaze returned quickly to Logi, who had fallen on the ground after trying to crawl towards her. "No… why?! Why?!" he cried to himself, his voice filled with oppression and shock.
Then he noticed the man who had shot Logi moving quietly between the rocks. The fear that had taken over him vanished, and his eyes ignited with anger. He raised his weapon this time without trembling, and a scream escaped from his heart, filled with oppression: "Aaaaaah!"
He pulled the trigger, and the bullet launched to hit the man in the head with precision. This was the first man André had hit skillfully, a feeling of control filling him despite the surrounding terror. And quickly, he lowered to his knees, began to move cautiously towards Logi. As soon as he reached him, he grabbed him and turned his body, tapping his cheek gently trying to wake him up: "Logi… Logi, open your eyes, please!"
The light taps finally had an effect. Logi stirred, and opened his eyes with difficulty, as if his eyelids were as heavy as lead. The first thing he saw was André's miserable face, exhausted from fear and tears.
Logi raised his blood-stained hand, and touched his face gently. The blood transferred from his palm to André's cheek, a faint red line mingling with the tears, and whispered in a broken voice. "I'm sorry… I can't take it anymore. I guess this is the end.
But before he could say more, André cut him off with a trembling voice, trying to hold himself together: "Don't say anything… that way you'll be okay."
André grasped his trembling hand, squeezing it with something of dread and plea. His eyes trembled, and filled with tears that couldn't find a way to come down. Logi's face began to pale, little by little, until the warmth disappeared from his skin. His breaths became heavier, then slower than could be counted.
He turned towards the abyss before him, and the emptiness that swallowed the light. There, in the depths of his memory, flashed the features of Armanda — a short smile, and a breeze of her hair, and a laugh that wasn't completed. A sad smile drew on his lips, barely visible. "You know…" His voice came out weak, as if the air itself was resisting its passage. "I had a simple wish in this world."
He stopped for a little bit, then continued while looking into the distance: "I wanted Armanda and I to go on a trip… to laugh, to play, to eat ice cream… but even a simple wish like that can cost you a lot." He remained silent for a long moment. When he came back to talking, his voice was closer to a whisper than to life: "Even if I lived… I have no life without her. She's my world."
He blinked slowly, as if he was warding off the sleep that he wouldn't wake up from. "In both cases… I'm going to die. So don't be sad." He paused, then smiled faintly, only visible to those who were very close. "Keep going, André… don't give up like me. Live your life. Run away… please."
After that, his hand fell on the dirt, with a slowness that suggested the end more than any word. His eyes remained open in heavy silence, as if they were bidding farewell to the world without protest.
André's sobs piled up in his chest until they almost suffocated him, and nothing came out of him except a small action tinged with trembling; he reached out his hand and closed Logi's eyes with a trembling calmness, then let out a heartbroken scream that tore the silence:
He pounded the ground with his fists with all the strength he had left, and screamed again, with a voice in which all the meanings of survival were breaking: "Damn it…! Damn this world!"
His tears fell on his trembling hands, mingling with the cold dirt that didn't console. And yet, his face remained ignited, with tight features, as if only fire lived in it. They are the reason… they are the reason.
And in his depths, where no one could hear, an oath sprang up like frost: "I'll kill them… I'll kill them all."
Footsteps echoed behind him, slow, deliberate, carrying in their rhythm a hidden sarcasm. Then came the voice, dripping with scorn: "Oh… is the one-eyed guy and that girl done for?"
Something broke inside him. It only took a moment for him to recognize that poisoned tone… Enzo.
He turned violently, his eyes teary but sparking with a deadly fire. "Shut your filthy throat… or I'll tear your windpipe with my bare hands!" His words came out like bullets, short, sharp, allowing no compromise.
Enzo didn't know pride as a passing feeling; it was his law. And André, with his words, had defiled that law. An unforgivable insult. His features contorted, and his face became congested until it looked like a volcano about to explode. He screamed with a voice cracking with anger: "Do you realize what you're saying, you scumbag?! I'm Enzo Fieri! How dare you raise your voice at me?!"
But André, with cold certainty, answered as if pronouncing an irreversible verdict: "I'm not stupid, and I know exactly what I'm saying. I don't care about your name or your status… just know that I'm going to kill all of you."
He no longer saw the world around him; everything was distorted in his eyes. His heart was about to explode with oppression, with a loss that had not been acknowledged, and with a death that had not been appreciated.
Enzo didn't give him a moment. He pulled his weapon from his belt and raised it towards André without hesitation.
But André didn't budge. He kept staring at him with eyes that thirsted for blood, his silent defiance igniting Enzo's anger even more. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet launched to pierce his foot.
His body shook from the pain, but he didn't scream. He stifled his groan, and pressed his hand to his bleeding wound, trying to stop the blood. He raised his head, and his voice dripped with threat: "I swear… that I'm going to kill you. And your grave will never be merciful to you."
"Listen here…" His voice was low, cold, sharp, the words seeping into André's depths and implanting a feeling of threat. "You're lucky I can't kill you now… but that doesn't mean your words will pass lightly. As long as I'm around… I'll make your life a living hell."
Every second that passed increased the anger and hatred in André's chest. A feeling of resentment boiled inside him, a desire for destruction almost exploding, but his body was helpless, trapped between the pain and the anger.
Enzo let go of his face and straightened, putting his weapon back in his belt with a cold and routine movement, then said with a voice devoid of any sympathy: "Move it… we're going back now."
André knelt on his injured leg for a moment, biting his lips tightly until he tasted blood and bitterness, and looked at Enzo before him, then at Logi beside him. No… I don't want to go back, he muttered it in his chest, a silent scream trapped between the pain and the fear.
He didn't move. His gaze remained steady, his eyes defying Enzo silently, carrying a stifled anger that wouldn't melt. Enzo noticed him, so he stopped, pulled out his weapon coldly, and raised its muzzle towards the sky. He fired one shot into the air, its echo piercing the place like lightning. "If you don't move now… I'll make sure to hit your other foot." His voice was cold, sharp, as if he was counting the moment of the coming pain with precision.
Then Enzo smiled a smile… a smile that made André's heart almost explode. It was a mixture of arrogance and sarcasm, something in that smile pierced inside him, igniting all his anger and broken pride, making him feel trapped between terror and disgust and jealousy of his absolute power.
He clenched his bloody lip tightly, trying to control an explosion inside him. The pain in his leg became secondary in the face of this psychological impact. André looked around him madly, his eyes moving between the shattered rocks and the smoke rising from afar. He searched for any way to escape… but nothing. They were in a high place, and all the roads had turned into traps of rubble and fire after the explosion. One wrong step meant falling into the abyss.
He clenched his teeth tightly, and gasped a troubled breath as if the air itself refused to enter his lungs. Then he pounded the ground with his hands, once… twice… three times.
Every blow was screaming: Why? Why me?! "Damn it… damn it!" he cried in a hoarse voice, a mixture of anger and despair, his eyes gleaming with tears he hadn't found time to shed. "What am I going to do now?! How am I going to get out of this hell?!"
He lowered his head, his fingers trembling above the burnt dirt, and his voice broke into a whisper: "Dad… what would you have done if you were in my place?" His chest trembled with every breath, and the reality around him seemed to be collapsing even more. Hell wasn't the fire or the explosion… but the helplessness.
Enzo turned to him, pursing his eyebrows with annoyance, then saw him collapsing completely. He laughed… a harsh, dirty laugh, the echo of his voice filling the place and weighing down the air. "What a wonderful sight… truly wonderful…"
The laughter was like a knife lashing his body, entering every cell of his soul, increasing the feeling of breakage and helplessness. That bastard! I really want to kill him.
The anger exploded in André's chest like a long-suppressed volcano; he rose with difficulty, pushing the pain aside like a weak enemy, and began to walk, dragging his injured foot behind him. His looks towards Enzo were like arrows of cold disdain, his eyes gleaming with a deadly greed and an unquenchable hatred.
Enzo slipped from his gaze for a short moment, then turned with calm shoulders as if he was burying an extinct fuse, and turned to continue his way towards the headquarters.