“Get the fuck down.” Dick hissed through clenched teeth, one arm dragging Jimmie down from the ledge. Jimmie glanced at him, then at the commander, whispering out quickly. “There are survivors, it looks like we are behind enemy lines, some sort of artillary pieces are positioned at the foot of this hill, they look like silver Alien” The commander gave Jimmie an even look, his earlier surprise replaced by animosity. “I know.” But Jimmie didn’t back down, he continued. “I recommended an immediate strike on the enemy artillery.” The commander didn’t react at Jimmie’s proposal, merely narrowing his eyes and continuing to stare at him. The seconds ticked on, and the group crawled their way nearby, near enough to notice the hostile atmosphere. The commander whipped his head down, looking at Bill, then waving at him to come up. Turning his head back to Jimmie, he let their eyes meet for a second, only for them to gaze at the rest of the group, saying in a low voice. “We’ll do a fire and assault on the silver guys, spread out and DONT peak your heads. Wait for my signal.” The “dont” was said with eyes fixed on Jimmie, and Jimmie noted the warning, even if he didn’t feel threatened, not at the moment at least. The rest of the group nodded, moving in separate direction, keeping about three meters from each other. Jimmie stayed put, his position already good. The commander moved to Jimmie’s right. Piernov a little further right. Jimmie noted that Dick took up position to Jimmie’s left. Then Bill came crawling, getting his orders in a hushed whisper from the commander and positioning himself almost right next to him. Jimmie crawled to the ledge, peeking a last time at the commander before grabbing his two grenades at his pouch, placing them on the ground next to him. After that, he slung of his backpack, the weight a hindrance to his shooting. Then, he took one grenade and, gently pushed it into its designated slot on the rifle. He glanced over at the commander who were doing his own preparations, grenades and rifle spread out, three grenades were neatly placed next to him, one already loaded. Focusing back on his own rifle, Jimmie took a guess that the distance between them and the aliens were about four-hundred too maybe six-hundred meters. The slope would help with the bullet travel, thought Jimmie, hoping that four-hundred would suffice and plucked the numbers into his rifle’s distance gauge. He then glanced up, noting that Bill was half sitting, half laying, holding his gun in a babies embrace, ammo layed out with an iron umbilical cord connecting it to the gun. Further to his right laid Piernov, eyes staring intently at the commander, rifle aimed up. Jimmie wanted to glance to his left, to see if the others were ready, but then he noticed that the commander was looking at him. And when Jimmie looked back, the commander signaled for the attack. Piernov was first to react, crawling up to the edge and aiming his rifle. The rest followed suit, each man aiming their rifle down, and a little above the aliens, rifle tucked hard against their shoulders. Bill was a breath slower than everyone else, but as he pulled his gun high, and let it fall down with a heavy thump, yanking back the loading mechanism and taking aim, Jimmie felt relief. Then Jimmie aimed his own rifle, intent on killing the silver alien that had shot the fortification earlier. The whole set-up had taken mere seconds, and Jimmie knew speed was important, even thought the enemy probably wouldn’t see them, they’d react quick once the bullets were flying. As his aim came down, he noted that the silver alien he was aiming for, was in the same place as before, but the others had clumped together. Presumably talking about something. The commander shot first, a dim thonk echoing out, followed by six more, each aimed at the clump of silver aliens, each landing in different spots. One a little too far to the right, one too far up, but three landed almost perfectly in the gathered aliens group, one grenade, aimed by Jimmie, landed at the head of the prone silver alien. With each impact, the grenades blew up, a cascade of plastic shrapnel with the hardness of steel, flying out and impacting hardened muscles or thick shells. And with the first grenade impact, Bill let hell loose, bullets spraying like the fire from a dragon. His body pushed against the gun as the recoil tested his muscles. Bullets flying with a white streak following closely behind. Hundred of bullets spewing like water from a fountain, louder than the fastest car. Jimmie quickly reloaded the second grenade, didn’t even look at the explosions, knowing that speed was the key in a fire assault. Pushing in the grenade, he quickly clicked it into place, and aimed it again. The aliens had reacted quickly, but chaotically, a few aliens turning around to face the new threat, some running away, some falling down on their stomachs to shield themselves, all looking confused. Jimmie’s eyes passed through where the majority of grenades had impacted, revealing five gored and mangled bodies of silver aliens. To the side of those bodies, lay two wounded silver aliens, blast throwing them away. One missing an arm, the other merely looking dazed. And one unlucky alien, who hadn’t been wearing any silver armour, lost a leg, its friend staring blankly down at it. The rest of the silver aliens slowly realised their predicament and hurried for shelter, most of them just jumping down on their bellies, hiding in their armour. Some using their backs as cover while trying to get away, jogging awkwardly with their big trunk-like legs. The other aliens seemed to lack authority, bodies looking around in a frenzy, trying to grasp the chaotic situation. Some grabbing their weapons, some running around awkwardly, some gunning it for the dead and wounded silver aliens. Jimmie glanced at the silver alien he had aimed at, its back still turned towards him, but the top of its head bloody beyond normal, and that it still laid there showed its early demise. But Jimmie couldn’t celebrate yet, for he had one more grenade to shoot. Thonk. And Jimmie’s grenade flew away, quickly pushing the rifle down and switching to full auto, aiming it even before the first grenade had hit the ground. Jimmie was quick, real quick. When his first bullet flew, the others had just fired of their own second grenade. Jimmie’s bullet flew true, its white light combining with Bill’s. But were Bill’s flew like a tornade, hitting anything in its path, Jimmie’s flew like vipers striking its prey, each bullet purposeful and devastating. Jimmy had decided to try and kill one of the prone silver aliens, for they were closer and held a greater threat. And as the first bullet impacted, the silver alien pulled its rifle back, then six more hit, and it recoiled back into its shell, and then ten more hit the ground where its head had been, too no effect. Jimmie noted this behaviour, keeping in mind that their armour was too thick for his bullets, being built to tear, not snipe. He aimed for another one, and heard his grenade going off, glancing at its impact, he saw one silver alien flying over on its side, blood splattering, but legs still flailing. Jimmie aimed at it, its stomach exposed and fleshy, arms clutching its long gun. Jimmie pulled the trigger, holding it until twenty bullets had left the chamber. A thin line of red impacting the alien down from its pelvis region and up to its head, three bullets bouncing off its silvery helmet. Jimmie noted how those bullets had easily penetrated. More explosions rang out, many misplaced and spread out, doing little but creating more chaos. One hit an unarmoured alien, killing it instantly. And Jimmie noted how Bill’s bullets shredded one of those unarmoured aliens as it stood there, each bullet digging into its thick shell, until black and red blood gushed out of the newly appeared hole in its back. Then Bill switched over to a new target, continuesly spewing out a trail of devastating fire. Jimmie decided to aim at the less armoured aliens, for they lacked discipline and acted irrationally in the face of an ambush, easy pickings for someone as good as Jimmie. He killed another alien before a few more explosions rang out, and his fellow soldiers had switched over to shoot themselves. Now their hill was a source of devastating white fire, blinding and terrifying to the aliens who, for them, a minute had passed. Then Jimmie saw something in the corner of his eye, a black sphere, flying up towards them, and as it came back down towards earth, and being only a few meters away from it, the sphere opened up in an explosion, releasing a blob of black, writhing, mass that was shooting forwards towards the dirt. Looking like a tendril of a muscled, fleshy, arm. And as it hit the dirt, it was quickly swallowed by it, disappear into nothing. Jimmie had no idea what he had just seen, but he wasn’t eager to find out. He sprayed more, heard another explosion, and killed yet another alien. This one had aimed its gun, while laying down on its belly. But unlike the silver aliens, the unarmoured ones merely needed five bullets before their heads would cave in and expose alien brain matter. Jimmie glanced down at his ammo, seeing a red “62” flashing brightly. His eyes caught one of the silver aliens aiming up at him, exposing a bit of its eyes to Jimmie, not much, maybe the size of a strawberry at this distance. But that was enough for Jimmie. He aimed, letting the sight stay on the strawberry, and pulled the trigger. twelve bullets flying down, the chaos making the silver alien not aware of its impending doom. And the first bullet hit, square in the eye, and then the next, and the next, and the next. But in its final moments, the silver alien must have squeezed its trigger, a dead man's flex, enough to fire. And the round flew like red lightning, impacting the hill a few meters in front of Jimmie. Then Jimmie blinked, and a part of the hill was gone. The alien had barely missed; the hole being just a few meters away from him, big enough to swallow a car. But before Jimmie could think about it, the commander seemed to have had enough, screaming out. “FALL BACK! FALL BACK!” Pulling at Bill whilst going up to his knees, firing wildly as he continuously screamed. Jimmie blinked a few times, but quickly felt himself dragged back to reality as the commanders gun fell silent, quickly throwing the empty mag away and replacing it with a new one. Bill was swiftly running away, Piernov quickly following. And as Jimmie rolled around and pushed himself up to his feet, he looked to his left and saw Dick, Rick and Chris running at full tilt ahead of Jimmie. Jimmie picked up speed himself, glancing back to see the commander still screaming, looking at us and then down at the aliens, firing his gun wildly. Then Jimmie noticed black spheres flying up, up like reversed rain. Tens, if not, hundreds of them. But just as fast as they flew up, they arched back down, falling like bricks. Each one releasing its content of black writhing tentacles mere seconds before hitting the ground. But lucky enough for the group, the spheres werenot aimed at the running group; the spheres was aimed at where the group had been staying, where the commander was staying. Right now. Jimmie’s eyes were transfixed, focused like nothing ever in his life. He stared at the commander in disbelief, each container falling down, looking like the heaviest rain. But what took Jimmie by surprise wasn’t the rain, but that none were hitting the commander. The commander had stopped shooting, instead turning tail and running, running with a fervor of a scared cat. Easily gaining on the group as he practically flew down the hill. Chris made a move to turn back, but continued running as the commander screamed out. “FUCKING RUUN!” And the spheres started raining down near them, moving closer. As if the rain was following down with the commander. And the groups effort doubled, no, tripled. Bill screaming a guttural but feral scream, creating a chorus as the rest of the group joined in. Even Jimmie did, feeling such an overwhelming sense of dread and fear. He still had no idea what the spheres could do, but they looked fucking scary. And then, suddenly, they were at the foot of the hill. And the rain had stopped following them, staying content with raining down devastation at the hill. And the group fell down in heaps, gasping, grunting, and one even still screaming. Then a laugh pierced the breathing. Each man turned to search the source. It was Jimmie’s laugh. He laughed and laughed, for he was alive. He was so alive! He had never been this alive! He looked around like a madman, the rest of the group staring at him wide eyed, but he didn’t mind, for he was alive! The commander tried to hustle the rest to move. And the group uneagerly got up to their feet, jumping off in a jog. Not Jimmie though, he had spread out his arms wide, gun in hand and face equally wide, laughing while staring at them. He thought. How do they not see! This is wonderful, this is life! This is what it means to be alive! Jimmie stared at them like a mad looking at his first glass of water in months, his eyes swooping through all. Most had turned away from him, as they were jogging in the opposite direction. But Dick was staring at him, walking towards him with furrowed brows, and Jimmie smiled. For he had found his purpose, he wouldn’t have to deal with Dick anymore. Then Jimmie saw Chris. And Chris was screaming something whilst running towards him. Jimmie stared at him, uncomprehending, laughing. Suddenly, Chris pushed Jimmie, and a sphere exploded overhead, letting out its content of writhing tendrils. The black mass swallowing Chris' arms, sizzling them to nothing and creating charred stumps as it continued its way into the dirt, the black mass tearing through Chris’s arms like a knife through butter. Jimmie stopped laughing. Chris started screaming.