The Bite That Binds Page 19

“Paintballing isn’t really that difficult. It’s about ducking, diving, creeping, running, and crawling.”

“I’m no good at stealth. I’d give away my location in seconds.”

He was probably right about that. I sighed. “I’ll tell you what: you stay back here and defend our camp. I doubt anyone will get past us but if they do, shoot them.”

He nodded, appearing both relieved and nervous. “I can do that.” It wasn’t so much a statement as it was him trying to convince himself of that.

“Great. Now, I have a few rules of my own. These will help us as a team. One, don’t ever go off alone. I’m not saying stick to someone’s side. I mean, don’t wander away from the rest of the team. You won’t last long if you do. Two, don’t hang around in one spot, keep on the move. If you don’t, you’re liable to be seen. Then all someone has to do is get a good enough angle on you to shoot you. Three, never stand out in the open; you want to be under cover as much as possible. When you move, you move to more cover. Four, always have your gun up, ready to fire. Lastly, enjoy yourselves.”

Harvey cocked his head. “Do you think Jared will cheat and use his telepathy? You know how competitive he is. He won’t want to lose.”

I had to agree with that, but I strongly doubted that he would cheat. “The glory would mean nothing to him if he did that, so no. Right, to sum up…Until we reach the street where the ‘B and B’ is located, we have the luxury of running without being seen. Let’s make that count. Once we reach that street, we form the U shape and we shoot any f**ker in the way, covering Butch so that he can go get our crate.” The boys all nodded, somehow managing to look serious and giddy at the same time.

At that moment, Evan’s voice rang out. “Both teams ready?” Hearing Jared and I respond with ‘yes’, he then shouted, “Three, two, one…Game on!”

As one, we sprinted at vampire speed past the first street and the second, but stopped at the corner of the next one. Knowing that the other team would have reached the opposite end of the street at the same time, I didn’t hesitate in getting everyone into position. Following my hand gestures – after months of training, they knew my signals well enough – Chico and Butch crossed over to the other side of the street. Chico slipped inside the second building along while Butch took position behind the car at the corner of the street, placing him a little distance behind Chico yet close enough for them to watch out for one-another.

At my signal, David and Harvey positioned themselves behind a row of gas drums in the middle of the road, keeping at the rear. Satisfied with their locations, I gestured for Salem to run on ahead of me as we kept close to the buildings on our side. On reaching the second house along, he hid behind a large pile of tyres there, while I dashed inside. As we had all moved at vampire speed, it had taken mere seconds.

Inside the house, I headed quietly up the stairs. Once on the second floor, I went to the balcony and crouched behind a gas drum there. My enhanced vision allowed me to spot some of the other team, but unfortunately I didn’t have a clear shot. There was no order to where they were positioned…but that was Jared’s plan, I realised – unpredictability. He figured that if I couldn’t guess where any of them were, I couldn’t move into position to pick them off. It wasn’t actually a bad strategy. He wasn’t going to win, though. Not a bloody chance.

Wanting the other team’s attention on my side of the street to give Butch the best chance at slipping into the ‘B and B’ without being noticed, I jumped up and leaped over to the next balcony. Although I’d moved at vampire speed, the others saw me clearly, and paint pellets headed for me. But the moment I landed on the balcony, I’d rolled to the gas drum for cover.

My move seemed to have sparked the rest to act, because suddenly people were darting from spot to spot, and pellets were flying through the air. Knowing better than to stay in one place, I quickly darted down the stairs. Flat against the wall near the entrance, I took a quick peek outside. Salem had moved from his position near the tyres and was now squatted behind a gas drum further along the street. He was also exchanging shots with Stuart, who was crouched behind a car. Although there was a little paint on Salem, it was only on his leg.

Some sixth sense beat at me, telling me to look up. I did just in time to see that Damien was lying on the roof of one of the buildings across the road, aiming his marker at an unsuspecting Chico. I didn’t have a good enough angle to take the shot, but Salem did. “Salem, ten forty-five.”

Without hesitation, he swerved and shot. The pellet hit Damien’s shoulder, surprising him; he lost his balance and tumbled down the roof, onto the balcony…and right into Chico’s line of fire. A second later, there was a splat of yellow paint on his mask. Damien held up his gun, growling, “I’m hit.” With that, he marched off to ‘the dead zone’, grumbling to himself.

One down, six to go.

Distracted, I almost didn’t notice that not only was Max training his marker on Harvey – typical, since they didn’t get along very well – but he had a nice, clean shot. Quick as lightning, I turned sharply and rained pellets at him, forcing him to take cover. Although a few hit him, they didn’t catch him in a fatal spot. Cursing silently, I darted to the car outside and hunkered behind the wide-open-door.

“Harvey, learn to hide better!” I called. His cockiness was his downfall sometimes. This proved to be true when, only seconds later, he stood with his gun high above his head, declaring that he’d been hit…by Max.

Of course, Max was absolutely delighted. That was until Salem managed to hit him in the torso, temporarily cutting him out of the game. Much like Damien, he grumbled his way to ‘the dead zone’.

Two down, four left to go. But I didn’t have time to laugh about it, because suddenly pellets were hitting the car I was hiding behind, catching my sleeve. I tucked myself in tighter, avoiding the spray. I quickly realised that the pellets were coming from two directions. A peek to my left told me that Reuben was one of the arseholes responsible. No way would I give the two teammates a chance to flank me – which was exactly what they were trying to do. While one shot at me, the other advanced forward, and vice versa.

I took a smoke grenade out of my pocket, and flung it over the car. Five seconds later, it exploded. I wasted no time in rushing around the car, delivering a fatal shot to Reuben’s mask, before leaping onto the balcony above. However, rather than staying up there, I quickly scampered down the stairs. I was right to do so, as no sooner had I moved than paint pellets were being fired.

Startled by movement in my peripheral vision, I almost shot David. Likewise, he almost shot me. We both sighed. I’d have been as embarrassed as all shit to have to walk out of there, declaring I’d been hit by a member of my own team, and that I’d hit him too.

Gesturing for him to follow me, I went to leave the house. I had barely taken a step when an array of pellets came flying my way. I managed to dodge most of them. The ones that made contact had only hit my leg and foot.

I turned to David. “While I shoot, you run to the pile of tyres outside. Once you’re there, you take over firing. I’ll head to the gas drums a few feet away from you. Got it?”

He nodded. The second I popped out my head and gun and began shooting, David rushed out as instructed. As I pulled back, David started firing. Bent over, I ran to the gas drums, giving David a grateful and approving nod. As David continued exchanging shots with Stuart, I glanced around the gas drums, only to quickly pull back as Magda fired shots at me from behind one of the cars.

Thankfully the bitch had a crap aim. She was even dumb enough to look over the car rather than around it. Truly, it was a wonder that she was still in the game. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d been hiding there the whole time, simply waiting for me to come near.

I was about to finish her when a better idea came to mind. Yeah, okay, it would be best to take her out of the game, but this would be more fun. I grabbed one of the paint grenades and threw it at the car, satisfied at her outraged cry when it exploded all over her. I probably should have been ashamed that my laugh had sounded more like a cackle, but whatever.

The problem was that this would have given away my location to anyone around. Wanting to quickly reposition myself so that no one could get a good angle on me, I headed over to a pile of tyres. An array of pellets zoomed at me, but I managed to take cover before they could land on me. Something told me that the person responsible had been my fiancé. A quick peek to the right confirmed my suspicion.

That wasn’t great news, because Jared had a real good aim. We fired some shots back and forth as I took in the angles around me, looking for fresh cover. I didn’t pop out of the same place each time, hoping the unpredictability would keep me in the game – and that it would make the bugger frustrated. Sometimes I’d peek out of the top left, sometimes the low right, and so on and so on. At one point, I stuck my head out on my right, and then dived to my left and fired. But the trick didn’t work because he was too bloody fast. Fucking Pagori speed.

My focus flew to David as he stood upright with his gun held high and a blob of paint on his mask. Crap. I nearly had a sodding heart attack when Salem appeared beside me. I jabbed him with my gun. “You little shit.”

“Look.” He pointed at the ‘B and B’. I looked in time to watch Butch hurrying inside it, while Chico covered him by pinning Denny in place with pellets. Meanwhile, Salem was shooting crazily at Stuart, who was squatted behind a car beside the ‘B and B’. Had Salem not pinned him in place like that, Stuart would have been inside that building at the same time as Butch.

“We need to cover Butch as he runs with the crate,” I told Salem as I reloaded. I had every confidence that Butch would get the crate in a matter of seconds. I was right. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, Salem launched a smoke grenade. Butch waited only until it exploded before he sprinted out of the building. He hadn’t taken his gun with him, trusting that those of us left – me, Salem, and Chico – would cover him as he ran. We did.

It took the other team a few seconds before they realised what was happening and started firing at him. Salem, Chico, and I ran backwards, exchanging shots with Jared, Denny, and Magda. Although the other team had now redoubled their efforts, so had we.

Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t long before Jared picked off Chico – the f**ker. Pissing me off even more, Magda almost took me out. Time to get rid of the bitch. A well-aimed shot to the head eliminated her from the game. But – f**k it all! – a well-aimed shot from Jared took Salem out of the game no more than a second later. It seemed only natural to then turn on my fiancé, who at the same time turned on me, and we eliminated each other simultaneously. He dived on me then, knocking me to the ground and lounging on top of me, laughing.

Chuckling myself, I turned my head to watch Butch, ready to yell in victory as he reached base camp – something he was literally seconds away from doing. Although Denny was chasing after him, his shots were going wide and it looked like we had definitely won. But then Max – who I’d forgotten was only out of the game temporarily – appeared from around the corner of the last street and shot Butch right in the head.

Growling, Butch halted and dropped the crate at his feet.

Jared and his team started cheering and clapping, but Evan tsked. “Until you get the crate to your own base camp, you haven’t won, guys.”

Shrugging and laughing, Max and Denny both walked toward the crate. Startling all of us, there was a loud battle cry and Fletcher came charging out of our base camp, firing a series of pellets that seemed to go in every direction. Miraculously, some of his totally inaccurate shots caught Max and Denny’s masks.

Cheers rang out from my team.

“Fletcher, put the crate in our base!” I shouted.

Nodding, he dragged it into the small building and then came back out, mask off, grinning like a Cheshire cat. As the cheers rose in volume, he adjusted his glasses and curtseyed.

Maybe it was childish, but I whipped off my mask and laughed in Jared’s face. “How do you like that?”

He removed his own mask, appearing stunned. “How did I forget about Fletcher?”

I’d forgotten about him, too. But I wasn’t about to tell Jared that. I smiled, joining my hands around his neck when he kissed me. “All part of the strategy.”

He kissed me again. “Well played. But I will win you at the next game.”

I gave him a sympathetic look. “I’ll allow you to have your fantasies. I sure hadn’t thought that wearing a mankini would be one of them, though.”

His smile was quickly replaced by a scowl.

I began teasing him about the mankini again when we woke the next evening – even going as far as to call him Borat. That got me a punishment in the form of him pinning me down and shagging me until I came so hard I saw stars – ha, like that was a deterrent. We were lying in the bed, still reverberating with the aftershocks, when I noticed that he was staring. He did that a lot, never feeling uncomfortable as if it was totally normal to just stare at someone. I playfully snapped, “What?”

He flashed me an innocent smile that quickly turned roguish. “I like looking at you. I like looking at you, knowing I know this body better than even you do. Like knowing you belong to me.” His kiss captured and muffled my ‘I belong to myself, thank you very much’. When he pulled back, he had the oddest expression on his face. “That’s not you touching my leg, is it?”

I looked down the bed to see that Dexter had made his way from the living area to the bedroom and was now slithering his way up the bed. I giggled. “Maybe he’s starting to warm up to you.”

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