The Deceit of Recon Mission R45.S4.Z1

This is the introduction only to a short story I am composing. There will eventually be more, explaining the broader picture, but am using this as a starting point for one of the main characters

The branches clawed at his face as he ran. The thorny weeds tangled around his legs. He tripped a number of times over the hidden rocks and prominent roots, but he could not stop. If he stopped now he would be captured, and, eventually after a gruesome bout of torture he would be killed. The trees grew denser, but he did not stop. He drew his sword, slashing at anything in front of him to make his retreat swifter. For a moment he felt the panic rise up from his stomach, but he could not let it overwhelm him. For now, his mission was to stay alive, to find somewhere secure he could stop and regroup his thoughts. His eyes darted from side to side as he ran, there had to be somewhere he could find cover.

His armour started weighing him down, the ground became more boggy, forcefully slowing him down. The branches eased, turning more into vines, easier to slash at, yet never relenting. To his left he noticed an increase in terrain level. His thoughts turned to the possibility of cover on the other side, and he had no choice but to investigate. He was getting tired, his legs heavy. He paused for a moment, placing his sword back in its holster, then darted off towards the hill.

To his relief, coming down the other side of the mound, he located a small dug out, well camouflaged with the overgrown greenery. His body demanded respite, so, careful as to not disturb the overhanging vines, he crouched forward into the hole. He was pleasantly relieved and surprised, it was a lot larger than it first appeared. He knew he could muster up a small fire providing he covered the entrance more. He did so with branches and vines, careful as to their placement so that it would not be known someone had disturbed the land.  He sat in the dug out, a small fire burning, and laid his head back against the wall. He could feel the exhaustion creeping over him, his breathing slowing. With his left hand he rubbed at his forehead, rethinking through the doomed mission he had led Delta Troop on and had resulted him being in the situation he was now...

Author's Note

This is an introduction for the first short story to introduce a main character in what will be a collection of short stories. I wanted to raise more questions than answers, so people would want to read on, to find out who "he" is, who is chasing him, what was the mission, etc.