"Help me. Please, my leg is pinned. I can't move."
The voice echoed from the dark end of the ravine. It carried the exact pitch of one of the missing recruits from the advance team.
On the ridge, Jaxson's boot shifted toward the edge. He leaned over the rock to find the survivor.
Caleb caught the back of his armor and drove him down against the stone.
"It is bait," Caleb warned. He kept his grip tight on the Rank C veteran.
A heavy shadow shifted in the dark. Realizing the psychological trap had failed, the Mimic dropped its center of gravity. It planted anchor-like legs into the mud to prepare for a sweeping strike.
Caleb drew his combat knife. He watched the steel joints lock into place. It was the exact opening he had mapped out.
"Hold the perimeter," Caleb ordered over the local squad link, releasing Jaxson's armor. "Keep your fire on the flanks."
