Invasion (Russia/America) - (55.2/56) Part 3
anonymous
February 9 2011, 08:33:55 UTC
Fuck! America pulled his boxers on one handed, turned and ran as quickly and silently as he could through the bushes and into the field. Skidding to a halt in camp, America flung his pack to the ground and rummaged through it for his magnum.
“An alien patrol is crossing the stream right now.” America gasped. “They have human guns, including a water-cooled machine gun!”
The others burst into action. Canada and France flew to their tent for the weapons they had. Russia grabbed his weapons from the tent, and motioned to the depression on the other side of the road, a good place for cover.
America waved at him to go ahead while he ripped up a handful of grasses. Canada and France followed Russia across the road, where all three half-crouched, half sat in the dirt beside the raised road. America swept the ripped grasses across the ground, clearing away their footprints on the road.
“Hurry!” Canada hissed at him.
America swept the last footprint away and jumped into the depression, his belongings crashing to the ground beside him.
“How many?” France asked, his voice clipped and serious. “A dozen?”
“Around 15 of ‘em.” America whispered. “From what I could see, around half had hand guns, the other 4 had rifles. The last two carried the water-cooled machine gun.”
America fished a small hand-held mirror from his pocket, held it up and focused it on their empty camp. Frowning, he turned it away and focused on the field. All of the aliens were cautiously approaching the camp, many croaking and growling at each other. Canada pressed up to America and peered up into the mirror.
“They see our horses.” Canada whispered to France and Russia. “Entering the camp now.”
“When all are in the camp, stand up and fire.” France checked his rifle once more to ensure everything was in working order. “Make every shot count. We need their weapons and ammo.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, as weapons that were in working order were become harder to find. Ammo was also in short supply, due to the lack of refined materials and working factories available.
Canada and America peered into the mirror, waiting and watching in tense silence.
“Almost… just a few more…” Canada whispered.
“Come on…” America urged impatiently. “Come on…”
“There!” Canada slid away and readied his rifle. “Now!”
All four nations stood up, aimed and fired. A cacophony of sound flooded the endless fields and meadows surrounding them. Aliens screeched and scrambled to fire back, the group breaking into chaos. America held both magnum revolvers and fired all 12 rounds with quick succession, putting a single bullet in every alien. Crouching back down, he reloaded as Canada, France and Russia continued shooting. The last alien fell with a scream, its weapon crashing to the ground. The deafening gunfire halted, leaving only the whinnying of the horses as they jerked at their leashes tied to the ground, wanting to get away from the rotten, dead aliens. Putting the safety on his magnums, America reached for his pack, flung it over his shoulder and stepped up the steep incline to the road. France, Canada and Russia followed, crossing the road and picking up the human weapons the aliens held. Ammunition was unloaded from each weapon and put into a bag. The empty guns were loaded into the wagon and hidden under their extra supplies. America stepped over to the water-cooled machine gun and picked it up, peering at its construction, make and condition.
Canada stepped over and picked up a bag that was full of empty brass shells. Three ammo boxes lay beside it.
“Where did they find this thing?” Canada wondered out loud. “I haven’t seen one since the last world war.”
“Same here.” America unloaded the string of ammunition falling from tis right side and dropped it inside the bag full of empty brass shells. “They’ve used it recently, judging from the condition of the barrel, so it works.”
Russia picked up the jugs of water and set them down beside the other bags. “This will be useful in the fight.” He glanced to France. “Your people will benefit from this find.”
“An alien patrol is crossing the stream right now.” America gasped. “They have human guns, including a water-cooled machine gun!”
The others burst into action. Canada and France flew to their tent for the weapons they had. Russia grabbed his weapons from the tent, and motioned to the depression on the other side of the road, a good place for cover.
America waved at him to go ahead while he ripped up a handful of grasses. Canada and France followed Russia across the road, where all three half-crouched, half sat in the dirt beside the raised road. America swept the ripped grasses across the ground, clearing away their footprints on the road.
“Hurry!” Canada hissed at him.
America swept the last footprint away and jumped into the depression, his belongings crashing to the ground beside him.
“How many?” France asked, his voice clipped and serious. “A dozen?”
“Around 15 of ‘em.” America whispered. “From what I could see, around half had hand guns, the other 4 had rifles. The last two carried the water-cooled machine gun.”
America fished a small hand-held mirror from his pocket, held it up and focused it on their empty camp. Frowning, he turned it away and focused on the field. All of the aliens were cautiously approaching the camp, many croaking and growling at each other. Canada pressed up to America and peered up into the mirror.
“They see our horses.” Canada whispered to France and Russia. “Entering the camp now.”
“When all are in the camp, stand up and fire.” France checked his rifle once more to ensure everything was in working order. “Make every shot count. We need their weapons and ammo.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, as weapons that were in working order were become harder to find. Ammo was also in short supply, due to the lack of refined materials and working factories available.
Canada and America peered into the mirror, waiting and watching in tense silence.
“Almost… just a few more…” Canada whispered.
“Come on…” America urged impatiently. “Come on…”
“There!” Canada slid away and readied his rifle. “Now!”
All four nations stood up, aimed and fired. A cacophony of sound flooded the endless fields and meadows surrounding them. Aliens screeched and scrambled to fire back, the group breaking into chaos. America held both magnum revolvers and fired all 12 rounds with quick succession, putting a single bullet in every alien. Crouching back down, he reloaded as Canada, France and Russia continued shooting. The last alien fell with a scream, its weapon crashing to the ground. The deafening gunfire halted, leaving only the whinnying of the horses as they jerked at their leashes tied to the ground, wanting to get away from the rotten, dead aliens. Putting the safety on his magnums, America reached for his pack, flung it over his shoulder and stepped up the steep incline to the road. France, Canada and Russia followed, crossing the road and picking up the human weapons the aliens held. Ammunition was unloaded from each weapon and put into a bag. The empty guns were loaded into the wagon and hidden under their extra supplies. America stepped over to the water-cooled machine gun and picked it up, peering at its construction, make and condition.
Canada stepped over and picked up a bag that was full of empty brass shells. Three ammo boxes lay beside it.
“Where did they find this thing?” Canada wondered out loud. “I haven’t seen one since the last world war.”
“Same here.” America unloaded the string of ammunition falling from tis right side and dropped it inside the bag full of empty brass shells. “They’ve used it recently, judging from the condition of the barrel, so it works.”
Russia picked up the jugs of water and set them down beside the other bags. “This will be useful in the fight.” He glanced to France. “Your people will benefit from this find.”
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