I lifted my visor slowly, staring at the white punk who was yelling at me.
"The name's Jaz. Did you say I was corporal?" The punk nodded, "Sweet!" I said. The guy gave me a weird glance. "Name?" I mimicked his tone.
"Sam, now move!" we ran across the black baren tundra, missiles and machine guns firing every time you took a step. I wish I still had my skaters, they would've been better than these heavy-ass fucking army boots.
I guess I should explain myself. The name's Jaz, and I'm an African-american guy from New Jersey, toughest streets around bitches! Growing up, I did what every normal teen did, play COD and work out. So basically, I'm a tank video gamer. I have one of the top ten scores on COD world wide, and I did it when I was 12. I'm 24 now, and no one's beat me yet.
I had to leave my wife and my kid, his name is T.J. and he's 2 1/2, back in Jersey. I got called up 3 weeks ago, have been out on two mission already and haven't died yet. Woo!
Sam called out to us. I yelled inside my head at three more 8-foot lizards crawling up to the same turret we were.
"Ah hell no!" I cried as he grabbed one of my now troops. Lifting my rifle I let out all I had on him. He tumble down the hill, taking one of his 'friends' with him, but not before he'd bitten off my troop's head. "Shit!" I said, climbing higher up the small hill.
When we reached the top, Sam organized a plan of attack to take down the turret.
"Ready men?" he didn't wait for any approval, "Go, go, GO!"