Feel The Rush

Fervently I scan the dense foliage around me, though I know it’s in vain. Trying to be as quiet as possible I will myself to take another step. This is crazy. They are hidden and hidden well. Yet I continue to scan, hoping that perhaps I’ll catch a slight movement, a darker than usual shadow, or the sun reflecting off of equipment. Nothing. Another agonizing, twig-snapping step forward. My heart’s racing in anticipation. I know they are in these woods somewhere, just waiting, most likely drawing aim on my chest. I take a quick inventory of my teammates. The line is staying together as we comb through the woods. I finger the safety on my Tippmann A-5, yep, still good to go. Combing the woods in a skirmish line guarantees two things. One: eventually you will find your opponents. Two: You’ll know you’ve found them when they open fire on you, or a teammate, depending on who stumbled across them. Everyone in the line knows that someone is going to get it, you know that whoever it is has no ability to do anything about it either. I crouch under a branch, then step over a log. Every foot step echoes like a rock concert. Surely they can hear all of us crashing along. I draw quick aim on a shadow. . . No just a tree stump.

Suddenly, the waiting and the silence are shattered by a burst of automatic fire about one hundred yards off to my left. Someone returns fire. As I run towards the sound, I can hear paint balls impacting on trees by the dozens. SMACK SMACK SMACK. Before I arrive I hear my teammate call out “hit!” He’s out. Worse than out. He’s now on the other team! We lose one, while they gain a player! As I run up, I see my team mate, Clay pinned behind a tree, doing his best to return fire. Little splatters of paint are flecked across his goggles from a near hit. By this time it’s a full on fire fight. Dozens of rounds are exchanged by the second.

I can’t detect any fire coming directly at me, so I continue in my flanking maneuver. Suddenly I hear another of my team yell out “hit”! And run over to join the opponent. This is not going well for us. The odds have now been turned. Instead of five humans hunting down two aliens, it is now three humans vs. four aliens. Clay and Josh are both pinned down, but the good news is that I’ve just saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico! And, they haven’t seen me, and have no idea where I’m at. . .yet. I hand-signal Clay to keep them busy. He does his best to draw their fire. Every time they have an exchange I take advantage of the noise and move in closer. I still haven’t even seen an alien. Just moving towards the sound of their guns.

Then, just like a ghost one of them steps from behind a bush to try to get an angle on Clay, completely oblivious to me standing twenty feet behind him. My response is automatic as I raise my Tippmann place my red-dot sight on his back and squeeze off a quick 3 round burst. Three perfect splats appear on his back, and his hands go up. One down. I move in closer, see another one crouched behind a tree and open fire on his exposed back. Two down. They know about me now. As another one tries to adjust to my presence, he gets eliminated by Clay. The remaining Alien bolts in a dead run. He’s kinda far away by the time I get a clear shot, but not too far for my new Flat Line barrel. I let off a stream of rounds in his direction. He trips and falls, inadvertently saving himself. . .for a moment. I aim into the grass where I saw him go down, and send off another burst. His hands come up. He’s out. He sits up, my blue paint coating his forehead.

As friends we all walk back to the staging area. Pair up new teams. and spend the next three hours doing it over and over again. This is paint ball. This was Saturday night for me. Can’t wait until next time. Hope my welts are gone by then.