In the Bush
Posted By: WereMidget<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 10 October 2005, 6:15 am
Hey I know this story lacks use of the "code" but I really don't care, if the layout actually does hurt your eyes my advice is to do your best reading this and see an optician.
Thank-you for taking the time to see what this stories about.
Private "Goldeneye" Johnston re-hoisted his BR55 Battle Rifle, drew dual M6C pistols from thigh holsters and scanned the area above and around him.
Something had definitely moved
Twenty minutes ago the lieutenant heading the patrol through the thick scrubby jungle had sent the point man ahead to scout out the next few kilometres of track, unfortunately for Johnston that point man had been him.
He ducked over to his left to check the west side of the track as a particle beam shot through the air where his head had been nanoseconds before and blackened the dirt behind him. He ducked and rolled right, silently thanking the Gods he'd never believed in as two more Beam Rifle shots missed their targets. Goldeneye knew enough about sniper Rifles of both sides of the war to know that after those two shots had been fired that fast the weapon would be overheating and he took this opportunity to try and spot the enemy sniper. He judge from the angle of the shots that the sniper would be about ten metres above and at least two to the west of his position.
He glanced up and seen the Covenant Jackal wrestling with it's glowing weapon, perched high up on a branch. But as the Private looked up the Jackal righted the weapon and began attempting to destroy his target again. The Private rolled again to his right, seeking cover from a wide-trunked oak tree. The Jackal growled it's rather unique and peculiar growl in annoyance.
Goldeneye mentally assessed his situation and possible options: he could sit on his ass for a few hours and get the bastard when he wasn't expecting it, he could attempt to radio back to his squad for assistance or he could jump out on either side of the tree and shoot the Jackal dead. The problems were that he wasn't in a position to sit doing nothing for hours and he was too bloody scared of the lieutenant to radio for help. Which left diving out if his cover. The best place in the world he could have possible been right then.
Sweat rolled down his forehead, even in the cold and light rain, at the thought of a hideous, birdlike creature poised with a gun, ready to deep-fry Johnston's head the moment he stepped away from the tree.
And with that thought at the summit of his worries, he stood up, and, guns drawn stepped back onto the track, into the path of fire. Fortunately the Jackal sniper was a split second slow on the reactions and by the time the first particle beam was fired Goldeneye was well on his way to side-stepping and shooting.
He moved quickly west, putting one foot to the left of the other right in front of left, then left behind right, with his head racing the rest of his body so that he leaned across and his guns were angled at almost one hundred and eighty degrees. 12.7 mm semi-armour piercing bullets spun up into the canopy of foliage, none of them finding their target.
Or had they?
Goldeneye tucked his forearms against his chest, dropped, and rolled over his back, landing semi-crouched with left knee on the ground and right supporting his right arm, his dual guns aimed at the creatures head. But the jackal didn't fire, it was too busy bounding up and down in frustration, waiting for the burning hot weapon in it's raw and bloody hands to cool down, but the marine didn't fire either. He didn't need to in fact, his magazines were empty.
A loud crack rang out through the air, not the crack of a rifle or of any other gun, but the crack of a branch breaking at the joint, riddled with twenty-four 12.7 mm bullet holes and stressed from the weight of an ugly alien and it's heavy weapon prancing around atop it.
The Jackal screamed it's hideous scream one last time, right til the end of it's ten metre decent at which point the sound was replaced with a possibly more disturbing sound, a deep thud and the hint of a squish.