Traversing through the jungle, the group of prisoners felt uncomfortable being around each other and for good reason. One half of the group consisted of a handful of a team of vigilantes that rivaled the Batman and killed criminals, and the other half was human scum from the looks of them. The perfect definition of what the Shadow Warriors would go after. If not for their current situation, both halves would have attacked each other. For time being, the opposing sides would give each other death glares every now and then. Suddenly, the African American man stopped in his tracks and faced Shadow.
"Look, Jayden," he said. "I just want you to know something." Shadow was all ears. "I don't like you. I don't like your friends, I don't even like the people I sided with. We're all in the same boat, but out here, it's the law of the jungle; survival of the fittest. And if I see any weakness, I will not hesitate to get rid of it."
Shadow glared at him. "We're not savages. We won't stoop to that level. You can do what you want with your side of this little group, but I care for my friends like family. And I won't leave anyone behind. You better learn that well, Mister...uh...what's your name?"
"Mac," was what he said. "I didn't bother to ask the others. At this point, no one can trust anyone."
Shadow nodded. "I'm with you, pal. Come on, we're lagging behind." Mac followed him, keeping up with the others.
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At some point, the aura in the jungle changed. Something didn't seem right. The air smelled different, like a butcher's shop. The group didn't know it, but they felt something foreboding. It made them nervous. Something made a clicking sound.
"Duck!" shouted Ronin.
The group hit the deck as a grenade flew from the trees and blew up in a nearby bush, far from them.
"Mio dio," gasped the Italian woman. "Where did that come from? Wait, do you hear something?" It wasn't over. "Hit the deck, everyone!" A barrage of gunfire showered the area, forcing the group to take cover.
"Where is that coming from, Red?!" shouted Shadow?
Red's eyes turned into a pair of crosshairs as he followed the stream of bullets. He pointed to a line of trees. "There!"
Gauntlet followed Red's finger and exhaled a stream of fire in the direction from his hands. The bullets stopped firing as the flames consumed a tree and a line of bushes. "Oh, yeah! Feel the burn, baby!" Whisper slapped him in annoyance. "Ow."
The "bad" people stared at the damage Gauntlet made, then at Gauntlet himself.
"What are you?" asked Mac, a little afraid. "A wizard?"
Gauntlet smiled and laughed. "More like 'demigod if you can call me that. Actually, I'm more along the lines of a super hero. Or anti-hero. Like my friends."
"Shadow Warriors," said the Mexican man. Everyone turned to look at him. "I thought I recognized those costumes. I heard you on the TV back in Tijuana. You are nothing but a group of children who think they can do the greater good by killing criminals left and right. People like us." His already dark glare turned darker as he said these words.
"What makes it your right to judge us," snapped Whisper. "And what have you done that says we can't, chili breath?"
"My name is Raimundo," said the man. "And I don't wish to say more."
No one noticed until too late that Mac was walking toward the scorch marks Gauntlet made.
"What are you doing?" shouted Dusk.
"I want to see who's responsible for this," Mac replied. He disappeared behind a line of burnt bushes. For a while, all was silent. But soon, he the group heard his voice. "Hey, Sam! I think you got him!"
The group raced toward the sound of Mac's voice, eager to see who sent them to this jungle. Soon, they found him, standing over the body of a man, his face frozen in horror. His chest had a gaping hole in his chest. Gauntlet walked over to the corpse and frowned.
"That's him? He's the one who did this? Pathetic!" The Italian woman slapped him in rage. "Hey, what was that for?"
"Idiotta! Now we don't know why he brought us to this jungle!"
"I don't think Sam did this," said the Arabic man. Everyone turned to look at him, kneeling over the corpse.
"How do you know that?" asked Reaper, confused. "Are you a doctor?"
The man nodded. "Yes, Flynn. And," he pointed to the hole in the corpse's chest. "This wound was not caused by Sam's fire. It if was, it would have caused third to fourth degree burns. Second, this wound was caused by something that would have gone straight through the body, cauterized the wound and killed this poor bastard instantly."
Everyone pondered on this. Shadow's uneasy feeling returned to him.
"So," started Raimundo. "Someone else did this? I wonder who?"
"I don't know," replied the Arabic doctor. "But, I do know this. This isn't the one that brought us here." He pointed to the eyes and the pale skin of the corpse. "You see this? He's been decomposing for some time now. Probably over a month." He stuck his hand in the man's pocket, pulling out a wallet. "Hmm," he said, looking at the man's ID. "It says here he's a US marine. Whoever killed this man must have been quite skilled."
"Then, the grenade, the guns?" asked Breeze, afraid. She looked behind her. "I wonder..." She looked over at Shadow. "Can you look for anything that would have caused those weapons to go off?"
"Wait here," he said. "I'll be back." He walked away from the group.
"So, doc," started Red. "Why would a man of medicals such as yourself be here?"
"It's Muhammad, and sorry, Marcas," replied the doctor. "But you'd hate me if I told you."
"Oh, don't worry. I hated you from the moment I saw you and the rest of your group."
"I'm back," Shadow's voice rang out. "And I found these." In Shadow's hand was a set of strings.
"What are they?" asked Dusk.
"Tripwires," replied Shadow. "That proves my suspicion. Whoever this marine was trying to kill it wasn't us. It was whoever was after him."
"But who?"
Shadow shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know."
No one noticed the robotic bird hovering in the canopy, spying on them. Silently, it flew in another direction, returning to the ones who have been watching the group. The hunt was on.