Short of Breath

The Bloom hung in the air like a mist, thick and cloying, carrying a sweet, sickly scent that could be smelled even through the filters of the Scouting Party's respirators. It was a sure sign that they would need to change the filters on their respirators soon, but they needed to find a safe place to activate the Personal Bloomshield Generator to do that.
The smell made them uneasy, as it always did, the dangers of the Bloom lurking in every shadow and in every plant that surrounded them. They moved cautiously through the overgrown landscape, their senses heightened as they kept an eye out for signs of danger. The youngest, and newest member, of the group, Jaren, stuck close to his mentor, Sergeant Valen. It was his first proper mission into the Bloom Zone, and despite the confidence he'd shown at the start, the eerie silence of the Bloom had worn on him.
"It never gets easier," the Sergeant whispered, startling the young man, who looked at the woman in confusion through his respirators visor, "The silence. But you eventually get used to it. Learn to understand it."
Jaren nodded slowly, not really understanding what his mentor was saying, but not wanting to dissapoint her either. Suddenly, the air seemed to shift - a low guttural growl echoing through the twisted trees. Valen signaled for the others to halt, but it was already too late. The creatures came form all sides, surrounding the Scouting Party as their eyes glowed with an unnatural light, their forms twisted by the Bloom. Bloom Stalkers, a whole pack of them, their bodies little more than rancid flesh and bone pupetted by the vines that covered them emerged from the shadows, thorn-like teeth and jagged claws bared, hungry for flesh.
"Hold the line!" Valen barked, raising her blade. The others followed suit, drawing their weapons and readying their defenses. They fought fiercely, each strike echoing through the dense, suffocating air. But for every creature they felled, two more seemed to rise from the depth of the Bloom, as if the land itself was spawning them.
Jaren's heart raced as he fired his crossbow again and again, bolts flying through the throng of beasts. His aim was true, helping to fell several of the monsters, but he could see the exhaustion weighing on his comrades - Valen's breath was labored, able to be heard even through the mask she wore, blood dripping from a deep wound in her side, visible through the tear in her Hazard Suit. Dark green veins had already begun to spread from the injury, the Bloom seeping into her as she continued to fight.
One by one, they began to fall. Elyn's sword slipped from her hand as she stumbled, choking on the thick spores in the air through her cracked mask. Gregor was next, his heavy axe growing sluggish as the beasts tore at his arms and legs, spilling blood and infecting him with the insidious disease. Tellin's scream was cut short as a Bloom Stalker closed its jaws around the man's neck, ripping out his throat in a single motion.
Only Valen and Jaren remained. Valen was swaying on her feet, hand clasped to the wound on her side, breath ragged, but her gaze still sharp. She grabbed Jaren by the shoulder, shoving her spare air filters and the PBG into the boy's arms.
"Take them," she ordered, her voice hoarse but unwavering.
Jaren shook his head, his eyes wide with fear as tears gathered in the corners, "I can't...I can't leave you-!"
"Do it!" Valen snapped, cutting him off, her eyes creasing in a motherly smile, the boy able to picture it perfectly, even behind the mask, "You're the only one who can make it back. You're the only one...who still has a chance."
"N-no!" the boy gasped, even as he could see the dark green lines creeping up the sides of his mentor's face, "I...I don't want to!"
"We've all been infected, Jaren," looking aorund at the bodies of their party, green veins visible on their skin already, "It's too late for us."
With trembling hands, Jaren fumbled with the PBG, attaching it to his belt as he'd seen Valen do a dozen times before, watching as the woman pulled off her respirator, dropping it on the ground as she slumped against a tree.
"Go, kid," she muttered, reaching into her pack, pulling out a familiar device, pulling the pin on the Flame Grenade, holding it ready as the sounds of growling returned, "Get out of here before the Bloom takes you too."
Jaren's eyes were wet with tears as he stumbled away, his legs shaking beneath him. He looked back only once - just long enough to see Valen standing amongst the bodies of their comrades, one hand holding her sword, the other raising the Flame Grenade about her head as she stared down the approaching beasts with grim determination.
The last thing Jaren heard was the sound of an explosion, the heat of the concentrated fire beating against his back as he ran. And then...silence.
Jaren ran, his breath coming fast and heavy, the stench of the Bloom filling his nose and mouth as he sobbed behind his mask. He didn't even pause as he activated the PBG, the glowing energy pulsing out of it erratically as he grabbed the almost spent filter on his mask, twisting it off. He quickly attached the new filter, the one Valen had given him, knowing that if he kept his current pace it would only last half as long as it should. She had probably known that as well. That's why she gave it to him.
To make sure he made it.
He was safe from the Bloom's grasp, at least for now, but he could still feel it - its presence all around him, waiting for him to slip, to make a mistake, so it could claim him too. Jaren didn't know how long he'd been running for, only slowing to check the direction on his Recall Compass, following it back towards the main camp. He almost screamed as he finally saw the shimmering shield of the Bloomshield Generators through the trees, forcing his exhausted body forwards until he finally reached the gates, collapsing to his knees as several guards approached him.
He barely remembered what happened after that, only that he'd been dragged inside and decontaminated, then sent to report what had happened. The report was a blur, and not simply because of the tears in his eyes, as was the debriefing afterwards.
He had escaped the clutches of the Bloom, but he would never escape the memory of that day - his comrades, his mentor, and the price they had paid to give him a chance at life.