Wolf Ways (The Madison Wolves Book 9) (34 page)

“How does this usually go?”

“Usually? We haven’t done this enough times to have a usually. We’ve had a few games that were very one-sided. More often, it’s quite for a minute or two, and then it becomes chaos. A few people will get flipped to the other side very quickly, but the people who shot them also tend to get shot themselves. But eventually one side gains numeric superiority, and then it tends to end fairly quickly.”

“So I should expect to get shot a few times?”

“Unless you successfully hide in back, or you’re on the winning side of a very one-sided game, yes.”

“There was one game where Connor got shot eleven times. I think after six or seven, everyone else was just waiting for him. He kept charging in and getting shot by three or four people at a time.”

I laughed. “I don’t think that will be my style.”

“You should play a game or two this morning like that,” Zoe said. “It’s all in fun. This afternoon we’ll have more of a tournament, and it’s worth playing to win. There are prizes.”

“Michaela gives out the weirdest prizes,” Monique said. “She gave Lily a prize for most dramatic death the last time we were here.”

We arrived at our playing field. The two teams separated, and we followed Lindsey to our starting point. She pulled all of us into a huddle.

“All right,” she said. “I want us to win decisively. We’re going to play a defensive game and make them come to us. The field is about the size of a football field. We’re going to move forward only about twenty yards or so and take up a defensive position. I’ll be in the middle, and I want a shallow V-formation, more or less, although the flanks could come up even with me if they want and there are good, defensive positions. Try to have good lines of fire and pick your targets.”

She looked around, her eyes settling on me. “Remember, if you get hit, raise your hands above your head and say clearly, ‘I’m hit’.”

I nodded.

“Questions?”

There weren’t any.

“All right. Take your positions.” She turned away, and we spread out within our designated start area.

“We’ll follow you,” Portia said. She pointed. “I’d head for that set of barrels between the two trees.”

Thirty seconds later, the referee called out through a megaphone, “Three, two, one, start. Go! Go! Go!”

I immediately began running for the cover Portia had identified. Two of the wolves had the same destination in mind, but when they saw me heading there, they moved past it to another location. I ducked into place, and a moment later, Portia and Monique slid into place beside me.

I peered over the top of the barrels. The trees weren’t heavy, but they were heavy enough I couldn’t see the opposing team.

“I don’t think Lindsey picked a good strategy,” Portia said. “The key to paintball is to keep moving.”

“I don’t know,” Monique countered. “If we flip people, they won’t have to go as far before they’re shooting on our team, but if we have to flip, we have to run all the way to the other end then turn around again.”

“Good point,” Portia said. And then I heard her gun fire a couple of quick splats. I never saw what she was shooting at.

“Get him?”

“No. Killed a tree though.”

I laughed.

My heart was pounding in my chest though. I was hyped up on adrenalin, and I had no idea what to expect.

Nothing happened for the first minute or two. I watched ahead and saw no movement, but glancing both right and left showed me more teammates hiding behind their own obstacles. With their masks on, I couldn’t see who anyone was, hair color the only hint. Portia had put me in a hat, but no one else seemed to be wearing one.

But then the action started. To my left, towards the center of our formation, I heard a male voice call out, “I’m hit,” and then a few seconds later, a female voice.

“That was Lindsey,” Monique said.

“I told you her strategy was weak,” Portia replied.

There was movement in front of me, just a flash of brown. We’d been told to shoot at people, not movement. “See what you’re shooting.” So I didn’t fire, but I had my gun stretched out over the top of the barrels, and I was sighting down it.

“Movement,” I whispered.

And then Portia’s gun spat twice again, and a moment later a female voice said, “I’m hit.”

But I heard sharp hits against our barrels, and Portia bumped against me as she ducked under cover. The sound startled me, and I jerked, but I saw someone aiming at me, but not quite at me. I realized he was firing at Portia’s position. I swung my gun over, fired twice, missed, and then twice more and got him.

“I’m hit!” He raised his gun in the air and stood up.

“I got him!”

That was when I felt a sharp thwack against the side of my head, another against my shoulder, and one more on my arm. I cried out and fell backwards. I dropped my gun and pressed my hand against the side of my head.

“All you all right, Zoe?” Portia asked in a whisper. Then I heard both their guns firing.

“I don’t know,” I whimpered.

My arm and shoulder stung, but my head really hurt.

Then Monique was there. She pulled me more closely against the barrels, hiding me, then went back to her position, firing with her gun.

I curled into a ball, holding my head and waiting for the pain to dull. Then, beside me, I heard Portia call out, “I’m hit.” I felt her stand. “I’m hit!” she called out again again. “I need to check on Zoe.”

A moment later, even before Portia could kneel down next to me, Monique said, “I’m hit! I’m hit!”

Then both of them were kneeling over me.

“Let me see,” Portia said. “Monique, help her sit up.”

Strong wolf arms reached under me. Monique rolled me onto my back and then sat me up, supporting me from behind. Portia leaned closer and pulled my hand from my head then used her hand to turn my chin towards the side. She examined me with her eyes, then said, “I’m going to touch you.”

She was already touching me, but I knew what she meant. She prodded at the impact point. I winced, but the pain was fading.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Ready to stand and switch sides?”

I nodded.

She looked around, found my gun, and handed it to me. She raised her own gun in the air and said firmly, “We’re all hit!” Then she reached down, waited until I had my own gun over my head, and pulled me to my feet.

I looked around. I saw a couple of wolves, their guns in the air, heading towards our starting position. Portia got us moving in the direction we’d been facing.

We walked for a few seconds, then Portia shifted her gun to her other hand. “We’re supposed to run. Zoe, we’ll help you.” She grabbed my left arm. “You can lower your gun and let Monique grab your other arm.

And then we moved into a jog, the two of them pulling me along, and then an open run. I had to keep bouncing on my feet, but they pulled me along far faster than I’ve ever run before. We weaved around the trees and obstacles, and in far less time than I ever would have imagined, we were at the far end of the field.

Arriving, we saw several people switching armbands, and we passed a few more on the way there. I still couldn’t tell who anyone was.

“I got two,” Monique said as we switched armbands. “Zoe got one.”

“I got one,” Portia said. “We actually did pretty well. But now we get to go shoot them again.”

“Why don’t you wear helmets?” I asked. “Oh wait, that’s a stupid question. Wolves heads are made of granite.”

“Head shots hurt,” Monique said. “Don’t be embarrassed about that.”

“Some people wear masks that cover the entire head,” Portia said. “They have some for sale. If you want, we’ll buy one for you before the next game.”

“Are they expensive?”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ll pay for it.”

“Are they?”

“Not that bad, maybe fifty or seventy-five dollars.”

“I-”

“Zoe,” Portia said, “We didn’t give you a real choice about coming. If you’d picked the cell, we’d have talked you into changing your mind. We want you to have fun. Will you feel better about playing if you have more protection?”

I was embarrassed. I shouldn’t have been. But I nodded.

“All right then. The only thing to discuss will be which one to buy. We don’t wear them because we’re all macho wolves. But it’s better if you wear a helmet and laugh than try to match us and have a horrible time.”

I nodded agreement and was touched by her kindness.

“All right,” Portia said. “Monique, what do you want to do?”

“Right flank, push for the far corner, then turn left.”

“You take the lead. Zoe, watch the way I follow Monique, then you do the same behind me. Monique, set a pace she can keep.”

Monique nodded and immediately turned towards the right. She began moving quickly — but not running — back towards the action, taking us at an angle. She moved from cover to cover, and in between, she moved erratically. Once she was about ten yards away, Portia began following her, taking a slightly different path.

I didn’t wait, but instead of following Portia directly, I aimed further to the right, putting some distance between us before I turned left to head up the field.

It didn’t take long until I was largely lost, but I kept Portia in view and, most of the time anyway, Monique. So I saw when she went to ground, ducking behind one of the obstacles, then peeking around it before pulling back again. She peeked around the other side and fired, then pulled back.

Portia moved behind her own obstacle. She glanced back at me then turned forward again.

I moved closer to Portia but shifted towards the left then hid behind a tree, peering around the left side. Portia popped up, fired twice, and ducked. I watched where she was firing. I could see just a foot sticking out from behind a little wall. I took careful aim and fired three shots then ducked behind the tree.

“I’m hit!”

I smiled. Guns have always been a great leveler, giving power to those who otherwise wouldn’t have it.

“Zoe!”

I peeked around the right side of my tree. Portia was gesturing towards the right. Then she moved, running quickly to her next bit of cover. I peeked again, didn’t see anyone, and ran.

We reached the far edge of the field, but then Monique came under heavy fire. She cowered behind a tree, and from my own safe position, I could see the paint balls hitting the edge of the tree, splattering paint, but not hitting her.

I couldn’t see where they were coming from.

Portia was carefully firing back, but I couldn’t see that, either.

Then suddenly, everything turned into pure chaos, if it wasn’t already. There was a great yell from several voices, and then I saw several wolves break cover, running towards Monique and Portia. Monique popped out, fired twice, and fell back, but then she lifted her hands. “I’m hit!”

Portia began firing, and, a moment later, so did I. I didn’t think I hit anything, and I didn’t hear anyone call out “I’m hit”.

They overran Portia’s position, and she got hit multiple times. They didn’t even slow down but soon I was gunned down, taking multiple hits against my body and one to my face mask, scaring the shit out of me.

I fell backwards in surprise, and then I was surrounded. I cowered on the ground with my arms over my head, and one or two of them shot me again.

“Knock it off!” Portia said. “She’s hit already.”

“She didn’t say she’s hit!” And I took a paintball splat right to the ass. I cried out.

There was a rush of sound, and then I heard Portia said, “Pull shit like that again and I will beat the crap out of you!”

When I looked over, Portia had one of the wolves backed up against a tree, one hand on his throat and another locked on his wrist, holding his gun in the air. The other wolves stood back, holding their guns in the air.

“Don’t know what I did,” the wolf gurgled.

From my right, there was the sound of a paintball gun and then the wolf that Portia was holding took two shots against the side of his head. Monique had her gun leveled at him.

“You were being an asshole, Layton,” Monique said. “We’re supposed to make sure Zoe has a good time!”

“That’s Zoe?” he gargled. “I’m sorry!”

I sat up, and then Monique was there, pulling me to my feet.

“I’m fine, Portia,” I said. I moved closer, Monique watching over me protectively, her gun in the air. I set a hand on Portia’s arm, the one holding Layton. “I’m fine,” I repeated.

Slowly, she released him, but she was breathing heavily.

And then Michaela was there, holding her gun over her head. Her I could tell, both by size and her red hair.

“Zoe, are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Let him go, Portia,” Michaela said.

Portia finished releasing Layton. He rubbed at his throat, croaked a couple of times, then turned to me. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…”

“You thought she was whom?” Michaela asked, her tone low.