Nathan Jones - Determination

Then Trev followed the blockhead to the ground, leading with the butt end of the rifle as he slammed it against what he hoped was the soldier’s head. He heard and felt the dull thud of hitting something solid, a helmet probably. As the cursing blockhead tried to scramble away Trev swung at a different angle and hit something less solid, and the man went down with a cry.

Trev didn’t give the blockhead time to recover. He struck again, then again. Then, as the dark shape below him went still, he felt around until his fingers found his enemy’s face and lined up a final, brutal blow.

A hand on his shoulder almost set him swinging wildly with his new weapon, but then he heard Rick’s voice. “Easy!” A moment later he felt something hard bump his hands, and his fingers closed around his night vision goggles.

Trev hastily pulled them on, relieved to see that they didn’t appear to be damaged. But there was no time to celebrate as the sounds of gunfire continued around him. He looked around to see his other two teammates behind the inadequate cover of the evergreen trees not far away, huddling away from gunfire that seemed to be coming from everywhere. He also saw the bodies of two more blockheads, both shot.

So much for stealth. “We can’t be far from the canyon now,” Trev called as loudly as he dared over the noise. “Make a break for it! I’ll cover your backs!”

He suited his words by finding his M16, tossing the blockhead’s rifle away when he did. He wasn’t about to try to bring it along in this situation. As soon as his familiar weapon was in his hands he ducked around an evergreen, moving in a slightly different direction than his team as they bolted past him.

It didn’t take long to find a muzzle flash. Trev sighted on it and fired a burst, then immediately threw himself away as the enemy gunfire zeroed in on him. He ducked between a few more evergreens, glad they were so closely spaced, then circled around one and found another target to shoot.

By some miracle he didn’t end up full of holes as he repeated the process a couple more times. At that point, content he’d given his team time to get away, he began weaving southward through the trees to get out of there himself.

Before too long he found himself in the tangle of scrub oak again, his progress slowed and gunfire still flashing all around him. Trev threw himself against the grasping branches, grunting in pain as one slammed into his side. It would’ve stabbed right into him without his body armor. He determinedly spun around it and kept going, stumbling into more branches before he got his feet back under him.

He barely had the focus to do anything but keep going, but he still took the time to toggle on his mic. “Whoever’s in the canyon, we’re almost to you. Do us a favor and don’t shoot us, and if you’re feeling generous maybe you can shoot at the people shooting at us.”

Tom’s voice replied, sounding winded. “We’re about there, too. Actually I think I see you guys! Let’s group up and—”

A sharp blow on Trev’s lower back made him stumble and fall. For a moment he was afraid that was it for him, but he could still move his legs and he didn’t feel any blood spraying. It looked like his body armor had managed to catch that one too, although it hurt a ton.

He threw himself up and kept going. “Don’t stop for anything! Just get to the canyon!”

Less than fifteen seconds later he reached the edge of the thicket, so suddenly he actually stumbled out into the open. Up ahead he could see some of Davis’s Marines peering out from behind cover, thankfully not shooting at them. In the fifty or so yards of clear space between the safety they offered and the thicket, what was left of Trev’s squad was running flat out.

Trev spared just enough time for a hasty glance over his shoulder, catching sight of a few muzzle flashes and the shapes of enemy soldiers among the scrub oak, then followed the others towards safety. It took most of his focus to remember to veer and dodge, rather than just making a beeline for the cover ahead.

The Marines abruptly started firing, but thankfully not at him or his people. In the thicket behind him the enemies that had been chasing them had started opening fire on his squad, and the Marines were doing their best to provide cover fire.

It wasn’t enough.

Trev could only watch helplessly as up ahead Alice screamed in pain and went down hard. Then, as if in a nightmare, he saw Rick and Tom skid to a halt and turn back for her, right out in the open and under enemy fire, and now moving in a predictable line to boot.

Tom barely made it halfway before twitching under the barrage of enemy weapons fire and falling with finality. From the way Rick jerked and stumbled as he fell flat next to Alice it looked as if he’d been hit too, right at the last second.

Screaming wordlessly in grief, Trev shifted his own course to join his friends. As he ran the Marine’s efforts finally paid off, and the gunfire behind him abruptly slowed to a few isolated shots. That left him and Rick clear to pick up a dazed Alice, and the three of them stumbled forward. They were so close to cover he could practically reach out and touch it.

His squad reached the mouth of the canyon in ones and twos ahead of them and took cover, joining the Marines in laying down cover fire for the people coming behind. Trev, Rick, and Alice arrived last of all, and at Trev’s urging limped right on past the Marines and their squad mates and kept going up the road.

Behind him a soldier, Abrams he thought, shouted for the others to follow in an orderly leapfrog retreat. The Marines stayed behind, covering them as they limped up the canyon, each step taking them farther and farther from the nightmare.

Only a few steps up the canyon ahead of them, Mason Priscott collapsed clutching his side.

Trev wearily looked for someone in his squad to carry the man. He only counted six of them left of the eleven who’d taken part in the ambush, many in bad shape. Rick was barely on his feet and Alice was worryingly unresponsive, so he couldn’t go himself.

A uniformed figure abruptly passed by them to hurry to the wounded man and get him to his feet. Abrams, looking back at them urgently. “There’s a truck waiting up beyond where we took out the road. We just need to get that far.”

A truck. Things really must’ve gone south if Davis was springing for a vehicle, even to go only a couple miles along the twisty, circuitous road between the two canyons. Of course he didn’t need a truck to tell him that.

“My squad mates,” he mumbled. “I left five people back there. They might still be alive.”

“They might be,” the Marine said, unconvincingly. He looked over his shoulder. “Get your people back to camp. If the blockheads stuck around we’ll clear them out, and we’ll make sure to bring our people back, too. We’ll hope they’re alive, but even if they’re dead they deserve a proper burial.”

Trev nodded dully as the Marine continued to lead the way up the road supporting Mason. But in the back of his mind a cynical thought popped up; Davis hadn’t sent a team out to help them, but he was willing to send one to gather up the gear from the enemies his squad had killed. And his priority was probably recovering the night vision and other valuable gear from Trev’s squad mates, not their bodies.

He immediately shoved that thought down, feeling even worse. Davis and Abrams were both good men. Even if the private was out there doing both those things, there was no reason he couldn’t be there for more sympathetic reasons as well.

Sometime during his conversation with the Marine Rick and Alice had exchanged roles, and now it was the younger man who could barely walk as the blond young woman supported him. Rick was trying to talk to her, but in spite of the fact that she was supporting a lot of his weight Alice wasn’t responding, as if she couldn’t hear him. Shock?