One Minute Eleven

Part 1 - Mateo Evans, Ship Guard 3062, Zone 8

Gunshots rang out in front of my squad. We were almost there, almost able to help the cries of people trying to escape. We rounded a corner, rifles ready, only to find ourselves aiming at a group of distraught civilians. They froze, unable to distinguish us from the attackers for a moment until we lowered our weapons.

Most of them looked relieved, but one was still rightfully terrified. "They're so close! In the parks area just there!" He pointed down one of the corridors. I nodded and gestured for them to go the way we just came from.

I was about to say "There may be a few bodies, but keep going." However, after an explosion from that direction and a blast door slamming shut behind us cut that option off."

"This way." Our group leader said beginning to head over to a door leading to a storage section. It might not have been a good path, but it was definitely the best one.

Lights flickered on when we entered, buzzing slightly throughout the room. With it spanning a good hundred metres, it was small for the UNMC XII but larger than I expected it to be. Various gardening tools and repair parts were scattered around, most having fallen from their perch. I was the first to enter, scanning the room, ready to fire if necessary and waited until everyone was through. The door closed with a hiss behind us, sending a wave of ease though us all.

We were halfway to the other side when the explosion ruptured the wall on our left. I saw another squad in the familiar white and blue armour lying slumped on the other side of the corridor.

Unfortunately for us, most of the civilians screamed which prevented any hope of stealth. We barely had enough time to get everyone into cover before heat rounds began flying past us. I took my camera off of my chest piece and held it just round the crate I was sat behind. A short glimpse of the yellow gear of our attackers was all I got before a hole through the camera forced me to retract my hand. I quickly relayed this information to my squad, managing to guess a weak spot through the neck joint.

Peaking out, I was able to eliminate one of the six attackers with a burst of my rifle and saw two more fall to my squadmates. I waited a moment before looking over the right side of my crate to see that the remaining three had dispersed into cover.

Unsure what to do, I braved the gap between my crate where I hid alone and the larger block of shelves where the rest of my squad was set up. I felt parts of my armour grow warm as I ran and I ended up stumbling for the last part of the dash. It seemed I had moved at just the right time as when I looked back, I saw a large wave of rounds pierce through the crate into what would have been me.

Jack, my best friend and rival training partner was staring at me, a horrified face behind a clean visor, while I was smiling back up at him until the sting in my abdomen started growing. He dropped his gun, holding me tightly for a moment. I could no longer hear what he was saying but I could see that he was shouting over at the others. My breathing became rapid once I looked down to see my armour becoming stained red. A soothing warmth spread over my fingers as I brushed my hand along my stomach.

Jack shook me as Mark scrambled over, but I saw no more than that before my eyes closed.