Drifting into this specific patch of reeds had been a stroke of pure luck. As long as they stayed quiet, they were practically invisible. Furthermore, the Maengka and Blackwater fighters knew better than to wage war inside their own camps; they specifically chose isolated stretches of jungle for their bloody disputes.
Callahan reached out naturally, gently brushing a stray piece of reed fluff from the ends of her hair. "Look at you, your hair's a mess."
Leilani finally let out a breath, the tension leaving her shoulders. But her sharp eyes quickly caught a tear on his rolled-up sleeve. Underneath the fabric, a harsh scratch marred his tanned skin. "Your clothes..."
Callahan casually rolled his shoulder, flashing her a reassuring smile. "It's nothing. Just a scratch. Must have caught it on a thorny bush while we were falling back. Didn't even break the skin."
By then, Bason had finished his head count. He marched over, his expression serious. "Everyone's accounted for. Miraculously, no one took a hit."
Given the sheer volume of lead flying around, escaping without a single gunshot wound was incredibly lucky.
"We can't stay in this river bend," Bason announced. Despite the excellent cover the reeds provided, his veteran instincts screamed that remaining stationary was a death sentence. "We ditch the boat and move upstream. We need to find a high-ground position that's easy to defend and offers a good vantage point."


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