A few days later, they were huddled together again.
“Okay.” Chess looked around at the faces of the other recruits. “They’re up on the hill. It’s open ground from us to them, so they’ll spot us instantly. Our other companions are down: it’s just us.”
“Just us,” Dallow echoed somberly. “What chance do we have?”
Mal let out an exasperated sigh. “Is there another way around?” she asked.
Chess considered her question for an extended moment. “There’s a path around to the right, but it’s not completely hidden. We’ll have to crawl and trust to our luck.”
“If we come up on that side, they might not expect it,” Tenor offered. “We’ll surprise them.”
“Everybody agree?” Mal asked. “Dallow…?”
“Why not?” Dallow groaned. “Die trying, right?”
A few minutes later, Chess looked around at his group again. “Okay, we made it this far. They are right in front of us, but they don’t see us. Again, there’s only open field between us and them.”
For a brief moment, Chess’s thoughts flashed back to his old game in the city and the way the Game Administrator used to lay out the scenes for the players. Of course, he had returned to that game in his mind many times since he had started playing the game with the recruits here. But this was the first time, really, that he wondered if any of those guys missed him or even remembered him.
“Huh,” Dallow interjected suddenly, and Chess wrested his focus back to the current situation. “Maybe… Yeah, we’re close enough.” Dallow frowned in concentration. “Yeah, we can do this…”
“Do what?” Mal asked quietly, but Dallow ignored her question.
“Tenor,” Dallow said. “You’re the fastest runner: I think you should take the lead here.”
Chess and the others looked at Dallow in surprise, but they let him continue.
“Yeah, I think so,” Dallow confirmed, nodding. “I think you should run straight at them.”
“And ask them for help?” Tenor hissed, disbelieving laughter in his voice.
“No, dumbass,” Dallow growled, beginning to rise from his crouched position. “Shoot them!” He raised his rifle and sighted. “You go, too,” he said to Chess. “Mal and I will cover you both.”
At that, Tenor jumped up and started running toward the hill. Dallow, standing at full height now, fired electronic shots in quick succession. Mal stood up beside Dallow and began to fire, also.
Up on the hill, the target lights on the opposing team’s suits lit up like multi-colored fireworks in response to the fired signals. The figures in the distance began to yell and run around. Most made an attempt to fire back, although a few of them were already shot.
After a moment’s pause, Chess lifted his rifle and ran after Tenor, shooting as he went. The hill before him blurred into a rainbow of motion beyond the sweat running into his eyes. He had almost reached the hill when he was hit. Then, according to the rules, he had to stop. His suit glowed as if he was wearing strings of Christmas lights. “Seems like it oughta’ be playing music, too,” Chess groaned to himself as the blinking lights disoriented him. Defeated, he put his weapon down, but he looked up in time to see Tenor reach the flag at the top of the hill.
Chess heard Mal squeal behind him as Tenor waved the flag in victory. Around him, a small crowd of members of the opposing team wandered aimlessly and colorfully. It was over, and they had won the game for their team. Despite his exhaustion, Chess grinned. Okay, it was only an afternoon’s practice, but they had done it.
Later, Ellis, of all people, came over to congratulate them. “From where I was watching, it looked like you came from nowhere and then hit a target with every shot you fired,” he exclaimed.
Chess found himself turning toward his teammates in amazement. “You know,” he said, “when it mattered… it was mostly Dallow.” Mal nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Well,” Ellis said, “I hope you are all on my team for the final field training exercise.”
“Coming up really soon,” Chess groaned quietly, feeling his momentary elation sink.
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