Chapter 344: A Military Plane

The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy, casting golden streaks across the clearing. The air was cool, crisp, the scent of dew and earth mingling with the faint smell of smoke from the dying fire.

Angela lay beside me, her breath slow, steady, her body pressed against mine. The insistent hardness between my legs pressed against her, unignored, demanding.

I shifted, my eyes flickering open to find her staring at me, her gaze locked on the damp spot where my drool had marked her shirt.

Before she could react, I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss—soft at first, then harder as she responded, her lips pressing back with a fierce, hungry urgency.

A soft, breathy moan escaped her, her cheeks flushing a deep pink as she shifted closer, her body responding instinctively, molding against mine.

A chuckle rumbled in my chest as I pulled back, my fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. "Morning, sleeping beauty," I murmured, my voice rough with sleep and something deeper, darker.

Angela smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You drool," she teased, her voice husky, amused.

"And you like it," I shot back, grinning as I pulled her up, her body molding against mine for a moment longer before I stood, stretching my arms wide, the morning sun warming my skin.

Lisa was already awake, leaning against a tree, her arms crossed, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she watched us.

"Took you long enough," she murmured, her tone dry, teasing. "I was starting to think I’d have to pour water on you two."

I laughed, shaking my head as I glanced around the clearing. The rest of the group was already awake, huddled around the meager supply they’d scavenged. Their faces were drawn, tired, their hands clutching small packets—a biscuit, a bag of chips, a chocolate bar. One each. Nothing more.

Lisa pushed off the tree, walking over to join us, her voice low, amused. "They divided it up like starving animals." She shrugged, her tone dry.

"One thing each. Equal shares." Her lips twisted in a smirk. "Pathetic, isn’t it?"

Angela scoffed, crossing her arms as she glanced at the group. "They act like they’ve won something." Her voice was cold, mocking. "Like sharing a chocolate bar makes them heroes."

The morning light was broken by a sudden, eerie glow—a pulsing, green light in the sky, flickering like a dying star.

The clearing fell silent, the survivors freezing mid-bite, their eyes snapping upward, their faces twisted in confusion and dread.

"What the hell is that?" one of the men breathlessly whispered, his voice cracking with fear.

"It looks like it’s closing..." another muttered, his fingers digging into the dirt, his knuckles white.

The green light pulsed, unsteady, flickering like a tear in the fabric of the sky. And then—movement.

A small, sleek military plane, dark and unmarked, burst through the slit, lurching violently as if caught in an invisible current. Its engines sputtered, smoke trailing behind it like a dying comet.

"Oh SHIT—!" Raj screamed, pointing, his face pale. "It’s crashing!"

The plane lurched, spiraling downward, metal groaning like a dying beast. The survivors scattered, diving for cover, screams tearing through the air.

The ground shuddered as the plane slammed into the earth just beyond the tree line, metal screeching, dirt exploding in a massive plume.

Silence.

Then—chaos.

"IS ANYONE ALIVE IN THERE?!" Paul roared, already sprinting toward the wreckage, his medical instincts overriding his fear. He climbed over twisted metal, his hands shaking but determined. "HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

"PAUL, DON’T!" Nicole screamed, grabbing her mother’s arm, her face white with terror. "What if it explodes?!"

Mira hesitated, her eyes darting between the smoking wreck and her daughter, her face twisted in conflict. "Paul—be careful!" she shouted, but her voice was lost in the panic.

"We need to help!" Hailey cried, already moving forward, her hands trembling but resolute.

"NO!" Megan barked, grabbing Hailey’s shoulder. "We don’t know what’s in there! It could be dangerous!"

"Dangerous?!" Jason scoffed, stepping forward despite his fear. "There could be supplies in there! Weapons! Food! We can’t just leave it!"

"Or it could be a trap," Lena hissed, her eyes wide. "What if it’s not one of ours? What if it’s them—the ones who did this to us?!"

The survivors hovered at the edge of the clearing, their faces a mix of fear, curiosity, and desperation. The plane groaned, metal creaking, smoke curls rising into the sky.

And then—a sound.

A weak, rasping cough from the wreckage.

"SOMEONE’S ALIVE!" Hailey gasped, her voice high-pitched with shock.

Paul didn’t hesitate. He rushed forward, climbing over the twisted metal, his voice urgent. "HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

The rest of the group followed, slowly, hesitantly, drawn by morbid curiosity and the faint hope of salvation.

I didn’t move. I leaned against a tree, arms crossed, amused. "Well," I murmured, my voice low, dark, "this just got interesting."

Angela grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Think there’s anything useful in there?" She tilted her head, watching the survivors scramble toward the wreckage.

Lisa chuckled, cracking her knuckles. "Only one way to find out." Her gaze flickered to me.

I shrugged, taking a slow sip of my drink. "Doesn’t matter." My smile twisted. "One way or another, it will be ours now."

"Dexter," Angela murmured, her voice low, taunting, "you think they’ll find something good?"

"Oh, they’ll find something," I replied, my eyes never leaving the wreckage. "The question is whether they’ll live long enough to use it."

Lisa laughed, shaking her head. "You’re evil."

"And you love it," I shot back, grinning.

"CAREFUL!" Megan shouted, pushing through the crowd. "We don’t know if it’s stable!"

"It’s not gonna blow!" Jason snapped, already pulling at a twisted panel. "It’s been minutes!"

"Unless it’s booby-trapped!" Lena hissed, grabbing his arm. "We don’t know anything about this thing!"

Paul ignored them, climbing inside the cockpit. "HELLO?!" he called, his voice echoing in the confined space. "Can you hear me?!"

A weak groan answered.

"SOMEONE’S IN HERE!" Hailey cried, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Paul, WAIT!" Megan shouted, but it was too late. Paul was already pulling at the debris, trying to reach the pilot.

The pilot was alive.

A man in a tattered military uniform, his face bloodied, his breath shallow. His eyes flickered open, unfocused, confused.

"Who—who’s there?" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

"We’re friends," Paul lied, his hands hovering over the man’s wounds. "You’re safe now."

The pilot coughed, blood flecking his lips. "No..." he whispered. "None of us is safe..."

A chill ran through the clearing.

"What do you mean?" Megan demanded, her voice sharp.