Page 41 of Holding the Line
Chapter Ten
Eli sat in the dimcontrol room, the only light coming from the glow of several large screens that lined the far wall.Beside him, Blake tapped at a tablet while Ty sat forward in his chair, elbows on knees, eyes locked on the live feeds from the outer perimeter.The Ridge was a fortress now—patrols, sensors, trip wires—all of it running through the silent hum of data around them.Yet somehow, it still didn’t feel like enough.
He adjusted his comms, the low buzz of channel chatter coming through.Oren’s voice murmured orders on the ground, moving with Ezra and the five active Pathfinders through the woods behind the construction site.The rest of the reinforcements were stationed in defense—surrounding Ridge House, sweeping near the bunkers, keeping a silent guard over Ricky and Ezra’s home, where the kids were tucked into the safe room.
Eli leaned closer to the mic and said quietly, “Bateman, what about Bravo?”
Bateman’s voice responded low and direct over comms.“Didn’t bring them in full force.But Dev’s here.Brought Glenn, Maddox, and Sam with him.They’re covering the high ground and outer perimeter.Nobody’s getting in without going through them first.And they’re on this channel, too.”
Eli let out a breath, tension easing slightly.Dev’s calm professionalism always had that effect.
Then came the banter, like a balm in the storm.
“Technically,” Dale drawled over the comms, “I’m neutral in this little Pathfinder vs Bravo tug of war.Hybrid immunity.Maddox and I get dual citizenship.”
Bateman’s voice growled low.“You’re Pathfinder, Dale.Don’t push your luck.”
Dev snorted.“Please.Maddox is ours.You just borrowed him when we weren’t looking.”
“Facts,” Glenn chimed in, amusement rich in his tone.“And we never got a receipt when we took him back.”
“Jesus,” Maddox said dryly.“What am I, a commodity?At least give me a heads up if you’re gonna auction me off.Feels like you should have paid more for me.”
“You love it,” Dale said, smirking.“Admit it.”
“Love you all like STDs,” Maddox replied.“Persistent.Occasionally flaring up.Hard to get rid of.”
Even Bateman snorted at that.
For a moment, it felt almost normal.Like just another mission with too much sarcasm and too many egos.And Eli clung to that, to the sense of something real before the chaos erupted.
The minutes ticked by in quiet observation.Nothing moved.The feeds showed trees, shadows, and wind rippling through leaves.Then Marsh’s voice cut in, taut and focused.
“Movement.East forest line.About twenty-five-no thirty.Trained formation.Six teams of five.Moving like they’ve done this before.”
Eli’s heart kicked up.He stared at the screens.“I don’t see anything.”
“One sec,” Marsh answered.
The screen flickered.Eli blinked as the visuals shifted—infrared overlays now replaced the normal views.Heat signatures lit up the forest in ghostly red, glowing like embers.Dozens of them, walking in staggered lines.Already past the gates.
Ty swore low.“Shit.They’re already on the Ridge.”
Eli leaned forward.“How the hell did they get in that close without tripping anything?”
“Because I let them,” Marsh’s voice returned with a smirk audible in it.“Hard to have a party if the guests of honor can’t even make it to the door.And didn’t say I made it easy, though.A few of them are limping.Gave ‘em a little encouragement on the way in.”
Dev chimed in, cool and dry.“That wire you set took out one bastard’s ankle three minutes ago.He’s still crawling.It’s embarrassing to watch.”
Sam added, “I’ve got eyes on a second group coming around from the west.Three minutes behind the main.”