Blood On Our Hands (Red vs Blue)

Rig

All thoughts about what Zeta was going to say vanished from my mind as I slowly pushed myself to my feet with the others, taking a glance back at them and then all around the forest. We were silent, not a word passing between us. I swiveled on my feet, searching for the direction in which the shot came from. I replayed it through my head trying to place the direction it came from, using the place where I was sitting as a central point.

The problem was that it seemed like it came from everywhere at once, echoing all around us. I cast another look back at the team, cutting my chin down, and slowly, methodically, using one hand to push the leaves and assorted folliage away from a small gap peering through, skimming up and down the path as far as I could see. Iowa tapped me on the shoulder, a silent gesture that told me to let her take a look. I took a step back and to the side, letting her take my place.

She peered through the break for a few moments, her head shifting from one side to the other. She turned back to the rest of us, motioning for us to follow her. Now that we were silent, the surrounding area seemed that much more... eerie than it previously was, a darker feeling that made my paranoia that much worse. I kept expecting someone to be just out of out sight, following us, waiting for something to happen. Each and every time the thought passed through my mind, chills ran up and down my back, my grip tightening around my pistols.

I dropped to the back of the group, keeping the same amount of space between CO and Montana consistantly through most of the time, dropping farther back every now and then, listening more intently to the surroundings. It wasn't just the forest that set the mood, that dropped it down so far that my paranoia crept back in; it was the entire time, how quiet, how observant we were, how tense we were. The others probably noticed it by now, knowing that we were all feeling the same way.

We been through scenarios like this a hundred times.

What's so different about this one time?

I don't know. I wish I knew.

I just know there is something that subconsciously clicked with each of us in the back of our heads. Something that gave off a different vibe than all those other times. I didn't like it, and I knew the same could be said about the other five. There was an air abour this time that gave off something different, something that clicked with the 'paranoia' section of my brain. It might have been the bodies strewn about like decorations in the wind, the tightly cramped space betweem the trees, the darkness because of it.

I didn't know. Maybe it was all of that combined into one huge mess of things that sent my alarms off all at once. The shot, the darkness, the bodies, everything. Yeah, that certainly was enough to send my paranoia tumbling right off the edge in a fit of panic. I kept it from showing, but my heart was racing. Racing a million miles an hour. This was one way to wake us up, but I don't know if it was a good thing or not.

CO stopped in her tracks, casting looks to the right and left as if something grabbed her attention. Iowa hadn't realized the rest of us were stopped, continuing on for several more feet before realizing something was off, turning on her heel to face us. I couldn't see her face, but, just by looking at her, I could tell she was half curious, half concerned, about the reason we stopped.

Each of us looked at the blondie as she swiveled on her feet, her eyes under her helmet scanning the trees and growth. She held up a single finger, using her other hand to remove her helmet. Her hair was a frizzy mess, odd strands standing straigh up and out of her low hanging tail. She furrowed her brows, casting a glance at each of us before opening her mouth. "I hear water," She said, barely loud enough for each of us to hear it. "North, still north," I almost didn't catch her words, they were to quiet for me to understand at first, then I ran them through my head once, twice, catching their meaning on the third try.