The mask was hot and slipped slightly on his head. This equipment had not been made for him. He had to move. Staying still was a bad idea. Instinctively He moved to the next place of cover along the east side. He was just over six feet tall and he had tucked his brown hair into his helmet as much as he could.
He kept his gun close to his
chest and listened. I got one! Move left!
Move up! Cover me! He felt invisible almost excited as slight
movement in an abandoned van caught his eye.
He turned slightly and looked down the barrel of his gun and executed
two precise shots through the van window: one to each eye. He ran again.
Some old oil drums concealed his body from
his pursuers. Two shots to the
head! Move to the right! Watch that side! They were better trained than him. They had years of hunting, stalking, and
winning. There was no time to be afraid.
He got down on his stomach and peeked out from his hiding place.
Then he saw the flaw. He had been forgotten. There they were: the last two enemies. They were laying down fire at his friend. This was his moment! He ran noiselessly and pointed the gun at the
first man his body was painted with splotches of green. Then he rounded the barrier and pointed at
their leader. “Freeze, dirt bag!” It was all he could think of to say. He collapsed and threw up his hands and with
tearful laughter, he conceded, “I surrender.” The rest walked on to the
field. A young blonde man reached down
his hand to the man on the ground and said, “Sorry Gunny, my best friend is awesome!” He took off his helmet and said, “three out
of five guys! I like this game!” As the
sun went down on a great day, he smiled and thought, “I am a beast; I can play
paintball with Marines.”
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