‘We have to get to the ant hill before they all come out,’ yelled Becky.
Colin and Pete nodded and raised their guns.
Colin was the first to fire. He pulled the trigger in a long burst. The first dozen tore apart an ant, bits and pieces of its shell, the legs and finally his head flying off as the bullets ripped through him but the rest went harmlessly into the air.
‘Short bursts, remember, three rounds at a time,’ ordered Becky.
Pete pulled his trigger and fired a short burst of three rounds, each thumping into an onrushing ant. Two tore chunks off its hard shell; the third buried itself right between its eyes.
It crashed down, head first and lay still.
‘There’s more coming, we have to move,’ called Becky as she surged ahead firing all the time.
Pete saw a group of ants over to her right moving at incredible speed.
The ants were almost on top of Becky before she realised the danger and fell onto her back firing up at the first ant that loomed large in her vision. She saw her bullets trace a line along its body and it ripped apart, innards splashing down all over her.
The other ants jabbed at her with their heads and she could see their pincers snapping at her.
Colin and Pete jumped into the middle firing wildly. Those that weren’t killed outright were pushed back under the hail of bullets.
Colin pulled Becky to her feet, and they formed a circle, firing short controlled bursts, very aware of how little ammo they had left.