The Black Hole by L .Marie Wood

Author:L .Marie Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mocha Memoirs Press

7

“Did you hear that,” Shaun shrieked in a low, raspy, panicked voice. They all hit the dirt as soon as the pop of the bullet broke the uncomfortable silence. “It sounded like gun fire. Real gunfire, man! What the fuck is going on?”

Martin was crouched in the thick of kikuyu grass, his eyes searching frantically. The shot rang in his ears loudly, incessantly. He looked nervously around for his friends. Robert was standing now, looking around himself in fear. Martin wanted to yell out to Robert and tell him to sit down, to take cover, to run damnit, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Nothing. He tried to inch towards Shaun who was across the weathered path from him, lying in a makeshift bunker. He wanted to go to him so that he wouldn't be alone. So that neither one of them would be alone… but he couldn't move.

A second shot was fired, and a gargled scream permeated the air thick with tension and fear. Martin looked up just in time to see Robert grab at his throat. Blood shot out in spurts between his fingers, mimicking his racing heartbeat. Robert gagged and coughed, trying desperately to catch his breath. His bulging eyes were glazed over with pain. He fell to his knees and sprayed the mallow with his dying blood.

'Oh Shit! Oh, Holy shit,' Martin thought to himself. He peered over the tangle weed he had buried himself under and saw Chuck retracting into his hiding place. Chuck! The big guy on their team, courtesy of Jeremy. 'He led them right to us,' Martin thought fleetingly. Chuck had a hideous smirk on his face. He was laughing. They were all laughing. The low roar of their impervious glee seared his eardrums.

"Got that, boys? We fixin' to play us a good ole game of paintball today," someone shouted into the thick air. It was Jeremy's voice.

"Yeah, your blood will do nicely in place of paint. Those balls don't quite splatter the way blood does, you know. It's just not the same. So we go’n make sure we do this right. Why, we wouldn't want to bring you all the way out here to play a half-assed game. We want to make sure your first game of paintball is the real thing. Your first and your last, that is." He heard Jeremy chuckle and walk away. The crunching of the leaves under his feet became distant, and it sounded like he was walking back towards the common ground. Jeremy might have left, but the others hadn't moved. They were laying in wait, ready to pounce. Waiting…

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