Racing through the forested landscape, Jon only slowed on approaching the clearing. Although only minutes had passed, it felt like forever before he reached the scene. He checked his gear, flipped off the safety and pulled a Sensor Buoy from a side pocket on his backpack. It was a black stake with a large matte black bulb on top. He shoved it into the detritus strewed forest floor, and his vision flared with all manner of overlays.

Seismic pulses splayed out under his footfalls, a soft radar ping wrapped meshes around obstacles it touched, and everything was tinged with slight thermal gradations. It would have worked much better at night, but as it was, the world came alive with coloured and meshed data. He turned down the opacity to get a more energetic overlay; in the autumn sun, details positively glowed.

Jon had broken a moderate sweat from his dash through the forest; he hoisted the barrel of his gun as he found and braced against a nearby tree.

The wolves were 182 metres down a slight slope in the clearing, sounds of chomped and ripped flesh could still be heard over the microphone, as well as the now hyperventilating elf a little way off in the tree.

“Lee, I’ve got a code red. Approaching for direct engagement.”

“Aw, shit, man!” Lee finally picked up in his Australian drawl.

“Ja, you’re late. Check the recordings. Gotta focus.”

“You’ve loaded steel cores and casings, right? They’re a ball ache to find otherwise.”

“No worries man, sorted.”

Jonathan sighted downrange through his scope as he breathed out and squeezed the trigger. The silenced rifle bucked slightly in his hands. The damped slap of three rounds burst through the forest. Silencers were misnomers, especially on larger calibre assault rifles. Shots remained extremely noticeable but would carry less over longer ranges. Two bullets hit a wolf centre mass, and it dropped where it crouched. The last wolf sprung up at full attention, but it only presented itself as a larger target. It took two in its broad chest and one in the neck, yelping as it also collapsed.

Jon sighed. He checked the area for any further movement but registered nothing. The forest was deathly silent now, the partially muzzled thuds of gunfire having even scared away the birds. Save for the whimpering and snivelling of the elf and the stream nearby, the previously lively forest felt still.

“Confirming kills and checking survivors.”

Jon retrieved his sensor buoy and approached the clearing proper. Once he exited the tree line, he paused five metres from the nearest body and replaced the Buoy. Its readings once again flared up, giving a much more detailed view of the proximal area.

“Evy, life-signs.”

“One humanoid in the tree.” The silhouettes of bodies were highlighted in white and green, dead and alive, respectively.

“I hope you’re sure this time. I don’t want a repeat of Egypt. 99th percentile my ass.”

“You can’t blame Evy for that!” answered Lee. “Crocodiles are hard to check in the water!”

Jon grimaced, Lee was probably right. If they moved, he’d shoot again; letting them bleed out would hedge his bets. The skull wound from the first wolf looked frozen and was melting in the midday sun. He took note of it and moved on. Gavin lay half-eaten under the other two pony-sized wolves. There wasn’t much of his skull left, and what remained looked scorched. He did not approach and just inspected clinically.

Next, he went to appraise the lone survivor clinging desperately to the oaken trunk while straddling a larger branch some three metres up. Her eyes were wide and dazed, face covered in sweat.

With delicate features, high cheekbones and bright lime green irises, she might have been attractive on a good day. Jon suspected this was not a good day.