After Steve Owen took down the soldier, he immediately relocated. By the time nearby soldiers, alerted by the shout, rushed over, only a corpse remained.
The downpour kept on. The arrow he'd just fired was his last one. The one-eyed man had been right—his arrows were running out. Shooting down drones and killing enemies along the way had burned through them fast. Even though he'd recovered as many as possible, he'd still run out just now.
Without arrows, the compound bow was useless. Steve Owen ditched it, keeping only the bowstring, and slipped into the rain and mist.
Edward arrived with his men and saw the compound bow on the ground.
"He's out of arrows."
He radioed the situation to the others, then continued the search with two men while the rest spread out. With Owen bowless, they didn't think he could do much. Sure, he had a gun—but the second he fired it, he'd be as good as dead.
In the rain and fog, John Rambo ghosted onto the scene Steve Owen had just fought over. He spotted the nearby corpse and the bow on the ground. Tilting his head, he listened, then, after a brief read, set off in one direction.
By a pool, the torrential rain sent the water level surging. As a soldier stepped across rocks at the edge, a figure burst up from below, yanked him into the water, and moments later a red cloud spread through the pool.
In the dense forest, a soldier crept forward, cautious. Suddenly, a shadow dropped from above. Steve Owen came down like a hammer—the soldier was knocked out cold. In the next second, Steve Owen cut his throat.
Elsewhere, Rambo began his own killing.
"Ahhhh—"
The commotion from Owen's side gave off a brief alarm—the soldier he'd killed cried out as he died. Other soldiers pivoted toward the sound and sprinted over.
Two soldiers ran hard. Neither had imagined there was a second enemy in the jungle.
The first soldier rushed past a clump of brush and noticed nothing. The second followed a beat later. As he passed the shrub, a figure launched out. He'd never thought a human could move that fast—but the thought flashed and vanished. Before he could react, Rambo had clamped a hand over his mouth and slammed him into a tree. Pain bloomed in his chest as his life bled away.
The point man thought he'd heard something behind him and began to turn—then jolted and collapsed. An arrow had appeared in his chest.
The jungle grew quiet under the heavy rain. Even the animals had paused their hunts, hiding in their nests to wait out the storm—but human slaughter still played out among the trees.
Steve Owen sensed something off. The enemy numbers were thinning too fast—as if someone else was doing the same work he was. He'd noticed two enemies vanish in one direction; later, he found their bodies. Knife wounds and arrow wounds—that made him think of John Rambo.
"Dadadada—"
Someone spotted Steve Owen and raked the area with gunfire. Hunched low, he sprinted through the trees. The soldiers were already furious from being toyed with, and now that they'd finally caught his trail, they chased like madmen.
Steve Owen flew over the ground in quick, short steps. He slipped around a small ravine, and the soldier lost him. Weapon up, the man searched, certain Owen was close. Given the terrain, there was no way he'd just vanished.
Inside a small waterfall, Steve Owen crouched with the MK3 reversed in his grip, pressed silent to the rock. The place was really just a hollow in the hill. In normal weather, it was nothing. But with the deluge, runoff sheeted over the lip into a thin falls. Anyone unfamiliar with the area would never guess there was space behind it.
The niche was tiny—barely big enough for one person. Sunlight filtered through the water. A black silhouette moved outside. Steve Owen eased his breathing, eyes fixed on the shape.
Outside, the soldier stopped, back to the falls, scanning around. He clearly believed Owen was nearby, but couldn't pin down where.
As he searched, a hand slid soundlessly out through the curtain of water at the back of his head—then struck like a snake, yanking him through the falls. Steel slid into flesh; muffled choking followed.
After a moment, Steve Owen stepped back out from behind the waterfall. Seeing no one, he picked a direction and moved.
What he didn't know was that, up above the hollow, a soldier was watching from high ground. Drawn by the earlier shout, he hadn't been able to see the man directly below because of the angle.
Now, as Steve Owen emerged from behind the falls, he appeared in the soldier's line of sight—and Owen was completely unaware.
From above, the soldier had a perfect view. He didn't shout. He raised his rifle, took aim, and prepared to shoot Owen in the back—when, behind him, a pair of eyes opened in the rain-slick yellow clay. A man rose out of the mud itself. The next second, Rambo's hand clamped over the soldier's mouth, and an old-style military knife punched through his back into his heart.
Hearing the scuffle, Steve Owen turned and caught the sight of the "mudman" taking down the soldier. Even so, he recognized him at once—John Rambo.
After the kill, Rambo jumped from the ledge into the pool below. When he climbed out, most of the mud had washed away.
"This is from your wife. She's fine—she's in a very safe place…"
Rambo pulled a necklace from his shirt and tossed it over. Steve Owen caught it, and his expression changed instantly.
"Where is she? Take me to her…"
Hearing Monica was safe, the knot in his chest finally loosened.
"Follow me…"
Rambo led the way; Steve Owen followed. Before leaving, Owen remembered to bring a set of weapons for Monica.
"Darling…"
Monica, who had been keeping watch at the cave entrance, couldn't help herself when she saw Steve Owen coming up behind Rambo—she ran to him.
He swept her into his arms, kissing her hair and cheeks, then stepped back to look her over front and back. No injuries. Thank god.
Reunited at last, they had a thousand things to say.
"Thank you. You saved me—and you saved the man I love…"
After talking with Monica, Steve Owen turned and thanked Rambo solemnly. Rambo just nodded.
"John, what do we do next?"
Monica introduced Steve Owen to Ina. After greetings, Ina couldn't help asking Rambo:
"There's a village fifty kilometers upstream. You should be able to find a boat there to take you back…"
"No…"
John Rambo's low voice had barely sounded when Steve Owen and Monica answered in unison.
The two exchanged a look and understood each other immediately—Doghead Society. Just thinking about that vile organization made their skin crawl. Since they'd run into it here today, they were going to wipe it out.
______
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