Day 7
“Guys, we have a serious problem.” Kowalski reported. He, Eve, and Private were in the hut early the tiếp theo morning.
“What’s that then?” Private asked, a look of concern on his face.
“This guard named Manor is getting suspicious. I think he knows we’re up to something.”
“Well what do bạn suggest we do?” Eve asked.
“This needs to go down soon.” Private instructed.
“Well, obviously, do bạn have a plan?” Eve asked.
“Not quite. I just need a little thêm time. Kowalski, do bạn think bạn could tap into the prison security?”
“Ha! With my eyes closed and half my brain tied behind my back.” Kowalski bragged. Private and Eve rolled their eyes. Kowalski awkwardly cleared his throat and muttered, “Right…”
Meanwhile, Skipper had just finished lunch and was out in the courtyard. For some reason he felt…watched. It was as if someone…somewhere…was trying to stare him into dust. It was making him paranoid. He kept looking around himself, looking in the same place he’d already looked, but found no lurking eyes. He and Hans were leaning against a fence talking.
“What is wrong with you?” Hans asked.
“I dunno…I just…have this gut feeling.”
“Well why didn’t bạn go on the way here?”
“Not that kind of feeling! I mean I feel like we’re being spied on hoặc something…”
“Well I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably Snake and his rats. Who knows what they’re planning.”
“I dunno Hans. I just…It’s…never mind.”
Skipper had had this feeling before. Suddenly his mind flashed back to when he was in battle twenty years ago.
(Flashback)
They had been at war for three painstaking days that seemed like years. The rain bored down on the soldiers from the dreary clouds in the blood red sky. The sound of gunfire cut through the roar of thunder. Skipper charged through the crowd of soldiers; a gaping leg wound piercing with agonizing pain with every fighting step. Finally he found a an toàn, két an toàn place off in the distance. Longing to rest his aching leg and muscles, he made a limping sprint forward. He chim bồ câu, bồ câu into the small hole in the ground and rolled a few feet into the Earth.
He stopped on his side and took deep breaths. After a few phút of regaining what ounces of strength he had left, he pushed himself into a sitting position, his flipper slightly slipping along the slick, wet soil. He looked down at himself. His feathers were stained with mud, water, and blood. Despite his leg wound, most of that blood probably wasn’t even his. He cringed as a stabbing feeling coursed from the wound in his leg up his spine. He wiped sweat off of his forehead with the back of his flipper and grabbed a bottle of water from his pack.
He gratefully swigged down half of it, letting it swash around in his mouth before swallowing. He looked at his leg wound. It was bleeding out with every passing second. He took of his soldiers’ mũ lưỡi trai, cap and put it in his mouth, preparing himself. He slowly poured water over the wound, fighting back tears and biting down hard on the cap, trying not to cry out. Pain surged through his body as the water licked at his leg.
(End Flashback)
“Right Skipper? Skipper? Skipper!”
“Huh?” Skipper jumped at the sound of Hans’s voice.
“I’ve been talking for the past five minutes! bạn were a million miles away! What were bạn thinking about?”
“Nothing important. What were bạn saying?”
“I was just saying, maybe we should think of a way to get Snake out of the way.”
“How do bạn suggest we do that?”
“I was thinking we could get him in trouble somehow…that would send him to the hole hoặc something.”
“Okay…how do bạn suggest we do that?”
“Well, I haven’t gotten that far yet…”
“Well, that’s very helpful.”
“Hey, at least I’m trying to think of something. You’re not the only one that wants to get out of here.”
“I know. I guess I’m just a little anxious.”
“So have bạn figured out anything about what the others are planning?”
“No, they haven’t told me anything. But I’m sure they’re getting close.”
“One can dream…” Hans muttered.
“Hey, my team is smart. They’ll figure out a way to get us out of here.”
“Skipper, this place is huge and under high security. I don’t think they’re going to come up with a plan anytime soon.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve been training them for years. I’ve watched them progress. I’m confident that they’ll think of something soon.”
“Well I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“Whatever Hans.” Skipper muttered. He pushed himself off of the fence and marched away from him.
(Flashback)
After cleansing his wound as much as he could, he had applied pressure to it with his jacket. The pain had dissipated some, but it still hurt like hell. Suddenly he heard a slight rustling from outside. He reached for his súng trường and used it to push himself to his feet. He slowly limped to the opening of the hole in the ground. He quietly loaded his weapon and held it across his chest as he slowly peered out. He took slow, long, even breaths as fresh air filled his nostrils.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle now and thunder gently resounded overhead. The area was clear now; the soldiers must’ve pressed forward. At first he saw nothing, and continued cautiously sticking his head out. He darted back when he saw the nguồn of the sound. A soldier was kneeling on the ground clutching his shoulder. His súng trường was laying a few feet away from himself, lying on the ground.
Skipper took a deep breath, and emerged from the hole and shouted, “Freeze!” while aiming his súng trường at him.
“Wait! Please! Don’t shoot!” The soldier begged.
“How do I know you’re not a rebel!?”
“I’m not! I swear it! Please don’t kill me! I have a family to get trang chủ to!”
Skipper stood in his position; trying to keep his weight on his good leg, a tight grip on the rifle, sweat trickling down the side of his face. He glanced down at the ground for a moment, thinking about what he should do. When he looked back up he stared at the other soldier for a moment, then he looked away, sighed, and lowered his weapon.
“Fine.” He said, letting his conscious take over. He used his súng trường as a crutch and limped toward him. “What’s your name soldier?”
“Michael. Michael Donsly.” He answered accepting Skipper’s flipper to help him up. “Yours?”
“My Những người bạn call me Skipper.”
(End Flashback)
Skipper was now on the other side of the courtyard, leaning face-forward into the fence. He stared hard into the woods neighboring the other side. He couldn’t wait to breathe the air of freedom. He could see himself once again with his team; doing their cute-and-cuddly routine for the humans, racing around the zoo to beat their all-time record, fixing a problem that Ringtail probably caused.
He still had that gut feeling that he was being watched. He scanned his surroundings again. Once again no one caught his eye…until he looked up. There, a couple of stories high, a figure stood in a window. He could swear whoever it was, was watching him. A couple giây of seeing him went bởi before the figure moved away from the window. Skipper could feel his suspicions rising. The feeling in his gut rose into his throat, forming a lump. But who would be watching him? Suddenly the buzzer sounded for the inmates to head back to the cell block.
Skipper walked alongside the sea of inmates until he reached his cell. He splashed some water in his face and dried himself off. A few moments later Hans walked into the cell and the entrance to it shut. “Another boring ngày in a boring place…” Hans muttered.
“Oh, suck it up, Hans. It’s not like you’d be doing anything all that important right now anyway.”
“True, but at least at Hoboken I’m free to go wherever I want when I want.”
“Aw…is Hansie feeling a little homesick?” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến in a taunting tone. Hans rolled his eyes.
“Very mature. Besides, bạn have to admit bạn miss trang chủ too.”
“Of course, but bạn don’t hear me complaining about it instead of thinking of a solution.”
“Touché.”
“It’s getting late. I’m turning in.”
“Alright.” Skipper got in his bunk and turned on his side facing the wall. He started thinking about the figure he saw in the window watching him. The thêm he thought about it the bigger that lump in his throat grew.
(Flashback)
“Be careful, it’s kind of a slip through here.” Skipper and Michael made their way down into the hole; Michael supported Skipper’s left side on their descent.
“You weren’t planning on staying in here until the end of the war?” Michael asked.
“‘Course not. I was trying to work up the strength in my leg before I moved on.”
“What happened to bạn anyway?”
“I was fighting off one of the rebels and he pulled a dao, con dao on my while I was in mid-kick.”
“Ooh…ouch.”
“Tss-yeah! Something like that…” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến chuckling. “So what happened to your shoulder? Grazed bởi a bullet?”
“Yeah. bạn know, we could bọc my shoulder up in something, and then we could find our unit together. I could help bạn walk. And bạn would get help faster.”
“Sure. Sounds like a better plan than hiding out here where we’d be sitting ducks.”
“Heh…yeah.”
At that moment Skipper’s stomach growled embarrassingly loud. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon. He didn’t have any rations left in his pack. His eyes widened and he put his flippers over his stomach, his face turning bright red. Michael laughed and said, “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I’m pretty hungry myself. I have a few rations in my pack.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small loaf of bánh mỳ, bánh mì and a fish. “This is all I got. We can chẻ, phân chia, split it.”
“Thanks…” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến relaxing a little bit, though still slightly pink. Michael chẻ, phân chia, split the bánh mỳ, bánh mì and cá in half and gave a half to Skipper. Skipper took a bite out of it and gratefully chewed and swallowed, allowing the flavor to sit in his mouth for a moment.
“No problem.” Michael đã đưa ý kiến taking a bite out of his own.
After they’d finished eating, Michael wrapped his arm in the sleeve of his áo khoác and Skipper said: “We should probably turn in and set off in the morning. The rest will do us some good now that we’ve gotten the bleeding to stop.”
“Alright. G’night.”
“Yeah, g’night.”
A couple of hours later, Skipper felt something. His eyes flickered open in suspicion that something was wrong. He slowly looked over to where Michael should have been laying, but found no one. He was alone in the hole. He quietly got up and grabbed his rifle, then limped to the opening. It had started raining again, and it was coming down hard.
“Freeze.” Michael đã đưa ý kiến sticking the barrel of his súng trường in his face the moment he stepped outside. He snatched Skipper’s súng trường and threw it to the ground a few feet away. Skipper put his flippers up in surrender.
“You lied to me.”
“Heh, and bạn were just stupid enough to believe me.” He slammed the butt of the gun into his lower stomach, causing Skipper to double over. “Finishing off the second-in-command of the enemy. Boy am I gonna get promoted for this.” He pushed him to the ground. A loud clap of thunder made it pour down even harder.
“Well are bạn gonna do it hoặc aren’t you!?” Skipper yelled over the sound of rain and thunder.
“Well I might as well enjoy my accomplishment!” Michael yelled back, then he kicked him in the chest and Skipper ricocheted on his back, trying to use his flippers to slide away from him. “Any last words, captain?!”
Skipper đã đưa ý kiến nothing, and Michael tightened on the trigger.
Click. Michael’s eyes widened. Skipper smiled deviously. Click…click-click… Michael tried at the trigger but it was no use.
“Whoever đã đưa ý kiến I believed you?!” Skipper yelled through his devious smile. Michael reared back the súng trường and tried to cái tát, đánh đập, smack Skipper’s face with it, but Skipper dodged it and got to his feet in a nhanh, swift motion. He grabbed the súng trường and the two of them struggled.
The two of them had a tight grip on the rifle, and were pulling to have custody. They fell on hàng đầu, đầu trang of each other and Michael pushed the súng trường into his throat. Skipper gasped for air as he pushed back on the weapon, and managed to roll on hàng đầu, đầu trang of him. He punched him hard in the face twice, then Michael kicked him off. However once he did so, he Mất tích grip of the súng trường and it went back with Skipper.
The weapon slipped from Skipper’s grasp and flew through the air and landed tiếp theo to Skipper’s rifle. The two of them watched it land, then looked at each other. A moment later, they both got to their feet and ran to the weapons. Skipper limped as fast as he could, but Michael was faster. As he passed him he pushed him to the ground and pressed on.
Michael got to his feet and ran phía trước, chuyển tiếp as well. This resulted in them reaching the súng simultaneously. Michael pushed Skipper to the ground, but Skipper brought him with him bởi grabbing hold of his flipper. They fell into the mud and scrambled over each other for the weapons. When each of them had a hold of one, they got to their feet and aimed at each other, neither of them knowing whether they had the loaded one hoặc not.
Skipper’s tim, trái tim pounded in his chest, knowing that he could die in the tiếp theo five minutes. He could feel his leg throbbing with every beat, and knew that it had started bleeding again. “So who’s going to ngọn lửa, chữa cháy first?!” Michael yelled through another clap of thunder.
Skipper breathed hard, and said, “My momma always told me to let the ladies go first!”
Michael scoffed. “So be it! See ya in hell, momma’s boy.”
Skipper clamped his eyes shut as Michael tightened on the trigger. He heard a gun ngọn lửa, chữa cháy and flinched. A few giây went bởi before he realized he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes and saw Michael’s body lay before him, face-down…a bullet-hole through his head. He looked up and saw someone approaching in the near distance. “Are bạn alright, Captain?!”
“I’m fine! Who are you?!” He đã đưa ý kiến limping forward.
Once they were tiếp theo to each other, he answered, “I’m Hans! I’m in Unit 3!”
“You probably just saved my life soldier! I thank you!”
“Don’t mention it! Come on! My unit’s just up ahead!” Hans grabbed his flipper and began to walk, but Skipper stopped him.
“Wait a minute!” He aimed his súng trường in the air and hesitated a moment, then pulled the trigger.
Click.
“Why did bạn do that?!” Hans asked.
Skipper lowered the gun, then dropped it to the ground. “No reason! Let’s go!” The two of them headed off in the direction of Hans’s unit, Skipper still processing the fact that if Hans had been a few giây later, he’d be dead.
(End Flashback)
Skipper opened his eyes again. Now he knew what that gut feeling was. It was the feeling he had when he’d almost been killed that day. He knew anyone else would call him crazy, but his gut had always been right before. Whoever it was that was watching him was planning to kill him.
“Guys, we have a serious problem.” Kowalski reported. He, Eve, and Private were in the hut early the tiếp theo morning.
“What’s that then?” Private asked, a look of concern on his face.
“This guard named Manor is getting suspicious. I think he knows we’re up to something.”
“Well what do bạn suggest we do?” Eve asked.
“This needs to go down soon.” Private instructed.
“Well, obviously, do bạn have a plan?” Eve asked.
“Not quite. I just need a little thêm time. Kowalski, do bạn think bạn could tap into the prison security?”
“Ha! With my eyes closed and half my brain tied behind my back.” Kowalski bragged. Private and Eve rolled their eyes. Kowalski awkwardly cleared his throat and muttered, “Right…”
Meanwhile, Skipper had just finished lunch and was out in the courtyard. For some reason he felt…watched. It was as if someone…somewhere…was trying to stare him into dust. It was making him paranoid. He kept looking around himself, looking in the same place he’d already looked, but found no lurking eyes. He and Hans were leaning against a fence talking.
“What is wrong with you?” Hans asked.
“I dunno…I just…have this gut feeling.”
“Well why didn’t bạn go on the way here?”
“Not that kind of feeling! I mean I feel like we’re being spied on hoặc something…”
“Well I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably Snake and his rats. Who knows what they’re planning.”
“I dunno Hans. I just…It’s…never mind.”
Skipper had had this feeling before. Suddenly his mind flashed back to when he was in battle twenty years ago.
(Flashback)
They had been at war for three painstaking days that seemed like years. The rain bored down on the soldiers from the dreary clouds in the blood red sky. The sound of gunfire cut through the roar of thunder. Skipper charged through the crowd of soldiers; a gaping leg wound piercing with agonizing pain with every fighting step. Finally he found a an toàn, két an toàn place off in the distance. Longing to rest his aching leg and muscles, he made a limping sprint forward. He chim bồ câu, bồ câu into the small hole in the ground and rolled a few feet into the Earth.
He stopped on his side and took deep breaths. After a few phút of regaining what ounces of strength he had left, he pushed himself into a sitting position, his flipper slightly slipping along the slick, wet soil. He looked down at himself. His feathers were stained with mud, water, and blood. Despite his leg wound, most of that blood probably wasn’t even his. He cringed as a stabbing feeling coursed from the wound in his leg up his spine. He wiped sweat off of his forehead with the back of his flipper and grabbed a bottle of water from his pack.
He gratefully swigged down half of it, letting it swash around in his mouth before swallowing. He looked at his leg wound. It was bleeding out with every passing second. He took of his soldiers’ mũ lưỡi trai, cap and put it in his mouth, preparing himself. He slowly poured water over the wound, fighting back tears and biting down hard on the cap, trying not to cry out. Pain surged through his body as the water licked at his leg.
(End Flashback)
“Right Skipper? Skipper? Skipper!”
“Huh?” Skipper jumped at the sound of Hans’s voice.
“I’ve been talking for the past five minutes! bạn were a million miles away! What were bạn thinking about?”
“Nothing important. What were bạn saying?”
“I was just saying, maybe we should think of a way to get Snake out of the way.”
“How do bạn suggest we do that?”
“I was thinking we could get him in trouble somehow…that would send him to the hole hoặc something.”
“Okay…how do bạn suggest we do that?”
“Well, I haven’t gotten that far yet…”
“Well, that’s very helpful.”
“Hey, at least I’m trying to think of something. You’re not the only one that wants to get out of here.”
“I know. I guess I’m just a little anxious.”
“So have bạn figured out anything about what the others are planning?”
“No, they haven’t told me anything. But I’m sure they’re getting close.”
“One can dream…” Hans muttered.
“Hey, my team is smart. They’ll figure out a way to get us out of here.”
“Skipper, this place is huge and under high security. I don’t think they’re going to come up with a plan anytime soon.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve been training them for years. I’ve watched them progress. I’m confident that they’ll think of something soon.”
“Well I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“Whatever Hans.” Skipper muttered. He pushed himself off of the fence and marched away from him.
(Flashback)
After cleansing his wound as much as he could, he had applied pressure to it with his jacket. The pain had dissipated some, but it still hurt like hell. Suddenly he heard a slight rustling from outside. He reached for his súng trường and used it to push himself to his feet. He slowly limped to the opening of the hole in the ground. He quietly loaded his weapon and held it across his chest as he slowly peered out. He took slow, long, even breaths as fresh air filled his nostrils.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle now and thunder gently resounded overhead. The area was clear now; the soldiers must’ve pressed forward. At first he saw nothing, and continued cautiously sticking his head out. He darted back when he saw the nguồn of the sound. A soldier was kneeling on the ground clutching his shoulder. His súng trường was laying a few feet away from himself, lying on the ground.
Skipper took a deep breath, and emerged from the hole and shouted, “Freeze!” while aiming his súng trường at him.
“Wait! Please! Don’t shoot!” The soldier begged.
“How do I know you’re not a rebel!?”
“I’m not! I swear it! Please don’t kill me! I have a family to get trang chủ to!”
Skipper stood in his position; trying to keep his weight on his good leg, a tight grip on the rifle, sweat trickling down the side of his face. He glanced down at the ground for a moment, thinking about what he should do. When he looked back up he stared at the other soldier for a moment, then he looked away, sighed, and lowered his weapon.
“Fine.” He said, letting his conscious take over. He used his súng trường as a crutch and limped toward him. “What’s your name soldier?”
“Michael. Michael Donsly.” He answered accepting Skipper’s flipper to help him up. “Yours?”
“My Những người bạn call me Skipper.”
(End Flashback)
Skipper was now on the other side of the courtyard, leaning face-forward into the fence. He stared hard into the woods neighboring the other side. He couldn’t wait to breathe the air of freedom. He could see himself once again with his team; doing their cute-and-cuddly routine for the humans, racing around the zoo to beat their all-time record, fixing a problem that Ringtail probably caused.
He still had that gut feeling that he was being watched. He scanned his surroundings again. Once again no one caught his eye…until he looked up. There, a couple of stories high, a figure stood in a window. He could swear whoever it was, was watching him. A couple giây of seeing him went bởi before the figure moved away from the window. Skipper could feel his suspicions rising. The feeling in his gut rose into his throat, forming a lump. But who would be watching him? Suddenly the buzzer sounded for the inmates to head back to the cell block.
Skipper walked alongside the sea of inmates until he reached his cell. He splashed some water in his face and dried himself off. A few moments later Hans walked into the cell and the entrance to it shut. “Another boring ngày in a boring place…” Hans muttered.
“Oh, suck it up, Hans. It’s not like you’d be doing anything all that important right now anyway.”
“True, but at least at Hoboken I’m free to go wherever I want when I want.”
“Aw…is Hansie feeling a little homesick?” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến in a taunting tone. Hans rolled his eyes.
“Very mature. Besides, bạn have to admit bạn miss trang chủ too.”
“Of course, but bạn don’t hear me complaining about it instead of thinking of a solution.”
“Touché.”
“It’s getting late. I’m turning in.”
“Alright.” Skipper got in his bunk and turned on his side facing the wall. He started thinking about the figure he saw in the window watching him. The thêm he thought about it the bigger that lump in his throat grew.
(Flashback)
“Be careful, it’s kind of a slip through here.” Skipper and Michael made their way down into the hole; Michael supported Skipper’s left side on their descent.
“You weren’t planning on staying in here until the end of the war?” Michael asked.
“‘Course not. I was trying to work up the strength in my leg before I moved on.”
“What happened to bạn anyway?”
“I was fighting off one of the rebels and he pulled a dao, con dao on my while I was in mid-kick.”
“Ooh…ouch.”
“Tss-yeah! Something like that…” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến chuckling. “So what happened to your shoulder? Grazed bởi a bullet?”
“Yeah. bạn know, we could bọc my shoulder up in something, and then we could find our unit together. I could help bạn walk. And bạn would get help faster.”
“Sure. Sounds like a better plan than hiding out here where we’d be sitting ducks.”
“Heh…yeah.”
At that moment Skipper’s stomach growled embarrassingly loud. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon. He didn’t have any rations left in his pack. His eyes widened and he put his flippers over his stomach, his face turning bright red. Michael laughed and said, “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I’m pretty hungry myself. I have a few rations in my pack.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small loaf of bánh mỳ, bánh mì and a fish. “This is all I got. We can chẻ, phân chia, split it.”
“Thanks…” Skipper đã đưa ý kiến relaxing a little bit, though still slightly pink. Michael chẻ, phân chia, split the bánh mỳ, bánh mì and cá in half and gave a half to Skipper. Skipper took a bite out of it and gratefully chewed and swallowed, allowing the flavor to sit in his mouth for a moment.
“No problem.” Michael đã đưa ý kiến taking a bite out of his own.
After they’d finished eating, Michael wrapped his arm in the sleeve of his áo khoác and Skipper said: “We should probably turn in and set off in the morning. The rest will do us some good now that we’ve gotten the bleeding to stop.”
“Alright. G’night.”
“Yeah, g’night.”
A couple of hours later, Skipper felt something. His eyes flickered open in suspicion that something was wrong. He slowly looked over to where Michael should have been laying, but found no one. He was alone in the hole. He quietly got up and grabbed his rifle, then limped to the opening. It had started raining again, and it was coming down hard.
“Freeze.” Michael đã đưa ý kiến sticking the barrel of his súng trường in his face the moment he stepped outside. He snatched Skipper’s súng trường and threw it to the ground a few feet away. Skipper put his flippers up in surrender.
“You lied to me.”
“Heh, and bạn were just stupid enough to believe me.” He slammed the butt of the gun into his lower stomach, causing Skipper to double over. “Finishing off the second-in-command of the enemy. Boy am I gonna get promoted for this.” He pushed him to the ground. A loud clap of thunder made it pour down even harder.
“Well are bạn gonna do it hoặc aren’t you!?” Skipper yelled over the sound of rain and thunder.
“Well I might as well enjoy my accomplishment!” Michael yelled back, then he kicked him in the chest and Skipper ricocheted on his back, trying to use his flippers to slide away from him. “Any last words, captain?!”
Skipper đã đưa ý kiến nothing, and Michael tightened on the trigger.
Click. Michael’s eyes widened. Skipper smiled deviously. Click…click-click… Michael tried at the trigger but it was no use.
“Whoever đã đưa ý kiến I believed you?!” Skipper yelled through his devious smile. Michael reared back the súng trường and tried to cái tát, đánh đập, smack Skipper’s face with it, but Skipper dodged it and got to his feet in a nhanh, swift motion. He grabbed the súng trường and the two of them struggled.
The two of them had a tight grip on the rifle, and were pulling to have custody. They fell on hàng đầu, đầu trang of each other and Michael pushed the súng trường into his throat. Skipper gasped for air as he pushed back on the weapon, and managed to roll on hàng đầu, đầu trang of him. He punched him hard in the face twice, then Michael kicked him off. However once he did so, he Mất tích grip of the súng trường and it went back with Skipper.
The weapon slipped from Skipper’s grasp and flew through the air and landed tiếp theo to Skipper’s rifle. The two of them watched it land, then looked at each other. A moment later, they both got to their feet and ran to the weapons. Skipper limped as fast as he could, but Michael was faster. As he passed him he pushed him to the ground and pressed on.
Michael got to his feet and ran phía trước, chuyển tiếp as well. This resulted in them reaching the súng simultaneously. Michael pushed Skipper to the ground, but Skipper brought him with him bởi grabbing hold of his flipper. They fell into the mud and scrambled over each other for the weapons. When each of them had a hold of one, they got to their feet and aimed at each other, neither of them knowing whether they had the loaded one hoặc not.
Skipper’s tim, trái tim pounded in his chest, knowing that he could die in the tiếp theo five minutes. He could feel his leg throbbing with every beat, and knew that it had started bleeding again. “So who’s going to ngọn lửa, chữa cháy first?!” Michael yelled through another clap of thunder.
Skipper breathed hard, and said, “My momma always told me to let the ladies go first!”
Michael scoffed. “So be it! See ya in hell, momma’s boy.”
Skipper clamped his eyes shut as Michael tightened on the trigger. He heard a gun ngọn lửa, chữa cháy and flinched. A few giây went bởi before he realized he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes and saw Michael’s body lay before him, face-down…a bullet-hole through his head. He looked up and saw someone approaching in the near distance. “Are bạn alright, Captain?!”
“I’m fine! Who are you?!” He đã đưa ý kiến limping forward.
Once they were tiếp theo to each other, he answered, “I’m Hans! I’m in Unit 3!”
“You probably just saved my life soldier! I thank you!”
“Don’t mention it! Come on! My unit’s just up ahead!” Hans grabbed his flipper and began to walk, but Skipper stopped him.
“Wait a minute!” He aimed his súng trường in the air and hesitated a moment, then pulled the trigger.
Click.
“Why did bạn do that?!” Hans asked.
Skipper lowered the gun, then dropped it to the ground. “No reason! Let’s go!” The two of them headed off in the direction of Hans’s unit, Skipper still processing the fact that if Hans had been a few giây later, he’d be dead.
(End Flashback)
Skipper opened his eyes again. Now he knew what that gut feeling was. It was the feeling he had when he’d almost been killed that day. He knew anyone else would call him crazy, but his gut had always been right before. Whoever it was that was watching him was planning to kill him.
