Difference between revisions of "Atlantis: chapter 8"

Revision as of 21:10, 4 March 2008

Okay I'm going to stop with the super genius thing.

And of course, this is chapter 8.

Please note this is a work in progress and the authors reserve the right to edit and/or reformat the book. Also note that in this writing we mean no disrespect to any country reading this. A book merely needs protagonists and antagonists.

Atlantis: Chapter VII

Paul looked out over the terrain for the thousandth time in five and a half hours. Nothing had changed. The same view of the same moonlight riddled jungle, the LED spotlights revealing more empty dirt and vegetation. Nothing alarming or even remotely threatening.

Paul had to try hard not to close his eyes. Even a top-notch elite soldier got tired.

Sitting next to him, Rob was wide awake, eyes enlarged to the proportions of golf balls.

"Did you hear that!?!" Rob asked.

"What?" Paul yawned.

"That!" Rob pointed wildly out at the sea of emerald green.

Paul shook his head and looked again at the newbie's nonexistent assailant. "Green horn." He muttered under his breath. Rob was the worst person to be stuck on watch with. He jumped at the slightest noise, and he insisted on keeping his carbine tightly in his vice-like grip. He personally loaded belts of ammunition into the chain guns, as he didn't trust the speedy machine loaders all the CGT's came with. On the other hand, if something did attack, Paul could be sure the new guy would know before anything else did, despite the UCAVs flying overhead with infrared beams scraping the landscape.

Paul was supposed to have his NVG's (night vision goggles) on, but why bother? Rob had his tightly fastened around his head, his goggle filters displaying a hybrid of thermal and infrared viewing. Rob was pacing the railing of the CGT, head turned out towards the jungle, hands tightly gripping his carbine in a death grip while he twitched and jittered. Paul was actually mildly afraid that Rob would accidentally jump off the tower.

So far this watch was the most boring of Paul's career. He almost wanted something to come up. Only half an hour more until his shift was over...

Paul must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Rob was sitting on a stool next to the railing, still looking out over the jungle. Paul stretched his arms and was about to open his mouth to ask how long he had been out when Rob raised a four fingers, indicating silence. It was then Paul saw why Rob was so still.

The recruit was sitting ram rod straight, completely silent, only his eyes darting around under his goggle lenses. And he was clutching at the chain gun in the same death hold he had with his carbine. Only tighter.

Whats the matter? Paul sent telepathically to Rob. The recruit jumped slightly at the mental message, but then quickly sent back,

They're everywhere...

What is? Paul asked, mildly concerned.

Oh my god, we're dead men...

...call the others?...

...No... one twitch and we'll all be gone... Rob's thoughts were less sent messages and just thought. Paul had to mentally lean closer to pick them up.

What, is, it. Paul sent, calmly and slowly.

Look. Was Rob's only answer.

And Paul did. He would take the sight to his grave.

Thousands of them. Maybe a hundred thousand. The emerald sea of green cast by his NVG's as well as the natural color of the forest seemed to be... moving. But the plants were still. It was the things on top of them that were the threat.

Raptors. A hundred thousand Raptors? That was impossible! How could there have been so many in the world? Not good at al-

A universal growl permeated the air. As one, the Raptors' lips curled up in a menacing half rumble half howl. The sound chilled Paul's bones...

Rob opened fire. It was a futile effort to kill a hundred thousand Raptors, but Rob was going down fighting if he had to die.

Paul could only sit. He didn't have the strength of willpower to resist as the Raptors clambered up the CGT like gymnists, jumping ten feet in the air and jumping straight off one of the support struts. Nor could Paul even think as he watched Rob torn apart and gored through by the vicious Raptors. He didn't even feel anything as a Raptor slashed him from behind...

Paul awoke with a start. He jumped out of his seat, his against-regs magazine spilling onto the floor. The first thing he did was feel his body for cuts. Nothing. He was mercifully whole, but Rob-

Rob! At the sound of Paul's magazine hitting the floor, Rob spun around with his carbine raised, looking away from the jungle for the first time on the watch shift. He was unhurt. Not so much as a scratch. But Paul could have sworn... no. It was just a dream. More of a nightmare. But not for real.

Rob tentatively lowered his weapon at Paul's upturned hands.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Sorry," Rob said. "I get jumpy."