Chapter 27: Chapter 27: Mutant Vines
Boom!!
An explosion occurred to the front right of the camper van, hurling soil and vegetation into the air and almost causing them to flip over.
"What the hell?!"
"Oh my God!"
The sudden situation shattered the previously relaxed atmosphere, leaving Sears and the four students at a loss, though none of them screamed in panic.
"Hold on tight! Keep your heads down!" Leon shouted while stepping on the gas, maneuvering the van out of the muddy forest path.
The engine roared, propelling the four-wheel-drive vehicle forward.
Whizz! Whizz!
The ominous whistle of approaching mortar shells.
Boom! Boom!
Explosions erupted around the van, with one shell even severing a giant tree, causing the upper part to fall uncontrollably toward the ground.
Screech!
Seeing this, Leon, deducing they were under mortar attack, quickly swerved the steering wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the falling tree.
He was perplexed. They were driving an old van from the 1980s; was it necessary to greet them with mortar fire?
Unless...
Rat-a-tat-tat!!
Indeed, just as Leon suspected the mortar attack wasn't aimed at them, gunfire erupted to their right, sparking a fierce conflict.
Bullets and shells of various calibers tore through the dense forest, creating a clearing amidst the combatants, even better than a chainsaw could.
Despite being in a rainforest with excellent air quality and filtration, everyone in the van could smell the strong scent of gunpowder.
Clang!
Several stray bullets pierced through the windows.
"Oh my God...!"
"Professor... I want to go home..."
The students and professor, following Leon's instructions, crouched down with their heads covered, trying to avoid being hit by stray bullets. Their faces showed visible fear and despair, regretting their decision to venture far from home into a war-torn area, putting their lives on the line.
Leon, meanwhile, had no time to comfort them, focusing entirely on driving. Glancing at the action on his right, he could vaguely make out the combatants: those on the eastern side, who were the real targets of the mortar fire, wore dark green uniforms and carried Soviet-made weapons, typical of rebel forces.
On the western side, near the village they were heading to, the rebels had similar uniforms and weapons.
Could it be infighting?
Infighting among warlords or rebels over interests or spoils was not uncommon.
Among the rebels near the village, Leon noticed many poorly dressed civilians who seemed to have been forcibly dragged into the conflict. However, these civilians appeared more aggressive and "brave" than the rebels, charging ahead.
This was not the behavior of people being coerced.
Boom! Boom!
More shells landed nearby, causing the ground to tremble.
Clang! Clang!
Shrapnel and debris, as deadly as the shell itself, sprayed outward, making the van rattle and further damaging its already battered state.
Perhaps luck was on their side, as the shrapnel and debris that could easily pierce the vehicle's body didn't inflict fatal injuries on the occupants.
Only the female student who had tried to talk to Leon earlier had her left forearm grazed by shrapnel, needing immediate treatment.
But...
Bang!
The tire burst.
"Ahhh!!"
"Help!!"
Amid the shouting inside the van, the vehicle, which had accompanied them through the forest, finally lost its balance and overturned.
Due to inertia, the van rolled several times on the muddy ground, eventually crashing into a large tree and coming to a stop.
Thud... Thud!
Leon, who had quickly regained his composure, kicked out the already shattered windshield.
He rolled out of the van, stood up, and drew his USP.40 from its holster, scanning the surroundings.
The "accident" had occurred at the intersection of the village and the forest. A few meters further west, they would exit the rainforest, and looking east...
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The distinct sharp sound of .40sw caliber bullets joined the cacophony of gunfire.
Leon had noticed two rebels with AKMs approaching the rear of the van and promptly aimed and fired, efficiently putting a bullet in each of their foreheads.
After neutralizing the immediate threat, Leon held his USP in his right hand, ensuring he could fire immediately if necessary. He then pulled Sears out of the van.
The four students, more agile than their professor, had already crawled out and were crouching near the engine at the front of the van.
Confirming that everyone was alive, Leon took out the medical kit from his belt and tossed it to the female student, instructing her to bandage her injured arm.
Although they were caught in a battle and terrified, Sears and his group understood they couldn't scream for help. Such behavior might seem like a way to vent emotions and alleviate fear, but it would only reveal their position and stress Leon, their protector.
Leon, a rookie investigator, was equally shaken. Despite his training, this was his first time killing someone, triggering a significant emotional response and an adrenaline rush, causing his hands to tremble.
Remembering Krauser's teachings, Leon quickly regulated his breathing and pulled out a smoke grenade. He removed the pin, opened the safety, and threw it to the south of the van.
Fsss!
Smoke quickly spread, providing additional cover.
"Run towards the village!"
"Okay!"
At Leon's command, Sears and the students ran towards the nearest thatched hut.
Leon stayed at the back, dealing with any approaching rebels.
As they escaped the forest and rounded the back of the hut, ready to enter the village...
"Roar!!"
The leading male student nearly collided with a "villager" emitting a strange roar.
"Jesus Christ!" the student exclaimed, retreating.
"Roar!!"
The "villager" pursued, reaching out to strangle the student's neck.
Hearing the commotion, Leon quickly moved to the student's side, aimed his gun at the "villager's" left chest, and fired without hesitation.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Two shots to the chest and one to the head.
The "villager," now struck with three fatal wounds, fell to the ground.
If it were Leon during his police academy days, he might have shouted, "Stop! Or I'll shoot!" But police protocols were clearly not applicable here.
Thud! Thud!
However, the "villager" wasn't dead yet, suddenly convulsing violently before their head exploded.
"Hiss!!"
The "villager" let out a sharper, more piercing hiss, and from the severed neck emerged numerous thin, thorny tendrils.
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