‘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.
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