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THE PAINTBALL LEFT a splotch of bright red paint on Flintstone's back, staining him as property of the other team

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THE PAINTBALL LEFT a splotch of bright red paint on Flintstone's back, staining him as property of the other team.

I reached out my hand to him but he swatted it away. "Keep going," he said, "I'm useless anyways."

Zombie nodded, ushering Nugget and I up the stairs.

"We need to do something," I said urgently. "The other team is just going to keep chasing us. They'll eventually end up shooting us before we can get the flag and make it all the way back to Reznik."

Zombie pursed his lips, thinking. "Do we have any more grenades?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I don't have one. Reznik said there were three grenades for each team...so that means-"

I was cut off by the sound of a 'putting' noise. I looked sideways, to the window a couple stairs down. A paint grenade came sailing through the opening in the wall and thudded against the floor.

"Run faster!" Zombie shouted.

My eyes widened and I crashed my feet against each approaching step, using the surface to propel myself forward.

"Canary! Zombie!" Nugget wailed, loosing his footing, starting to fall backwards- towards the window and ticking grenade.

I let out a strangled yelp, making a mad rush to break his fall. In one swift motion, Zombie reached out and scooped him up, throwing Nugget over his shoulder.

In any other circumstance, I would've taken the time to appreciate Zombie's amazing strength and back muscles, but now wasn't the time. We dove onto the floor of the top level, away from the exploding grenade.

How had Squad 49 been able to throw their grenade perfectly through the window? How had they known we were there? It was impeccable timing. 

I looked up from my place on the floor to see the paint- blue paint covering the five members of Squad 49.

A smile broke my face and a huge sigh of relief let my chest.

"That had to have been Ringer," Zombie said, a similar smile to mine dancing on his lips.

I nodded and took a much needed breath of air. For the first time since I'd been here at Camp Haven, I didn't completely hate Ringer. She had saved us, as much as I wanted to pretend otherwise.

"Yay, let's get the flag," Nugget said, scrambling out of Zombie's arms.

Zombie rose to his feet, laughing, and stuck out his hand to me. I smiled graciously and took it, stumbling as he pulled me to my feet.

"You've got to be shitting me!"

"Honestly, how the hell did that happen?"

"Seriously, how on earth did all of us manage to get hit?"

Perish • Ben ParishWhere stories live. Discover now