Chapter SixteenMature

Marcus Judd

"Judd, nice to have you back."

I nodded absent-mindedly, raising my gun at an awkward angle. I wasn't sure if he really did have me back. Part of me was still a few hundred miles away with my wife, still holding her closely trying to fight back tears . . . but that meant the soft side of me was gone, and the brutal side remained. The perfect time to fight.

"What's going on?" I said as Nick handed me a pair of binoculars. I peered through them and narrowed my gaze as I saw hundreds of Korean soldiers marching straight towards our position, their helmets lowered so their eyes couldn't be seen, their humanity lost in the fight for power. 

I tightened my grip on my M4 carbine and handed the binoculars back to Nick, just as he said, "Hell is knocking on our door. Should we turn the knob?"

I looked at him and smiled when I saw him holding a remote control, with a shiny red button in the middle glimmering in the sun.

"Do it."

He pressed the button, and instantly, four hundred explosives erupted right underneath the enemies' feet, sending them flailing through the air, broken in pieces, and the flames consuming the rest. We had taken out at least two thirds of them, but we were still outnumbered, out gunned . . . but never outmatched.

I heard a commanding officer scream behind me, "FIRE!"

And right then, ten snipers unleashed ten .50 caliber bullets on the Korean scum, sending limbs into the air in a maroon explosion of gore.


The sounds of rifles being cocked sent shivers up my spine, just before the officer yelled again, "FIRE!" and the snipers once again pulled the triggers, pumping another round of bullets into the enemy.

We watched them fire for five straight minutes before the enemy was in range of our machine guns. It only took ten minutes to completely annihilate their forces. When the battle was over, we all were sweating profusely and laying in the mud like pigs.


I turned and saw Nick, standing by the radio. "What?"

"We have to get out of here now!"

I stood slowly, the muscles in my shoulder sore from the recoil of my gun. "Why? What's going on?"

Nick picked up his stuff as fast as he could.

"Bombers," was his only reply.

The End

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