The Runner

My feet had barely left the doorstep when a streak of red hammered me in the stomach and I stumbled backwards back through the doorway, lungs searching for the oxygen that the streak had blasted out of them.

"Sorry, Cordelia!" I heard Chris yell as another streak of red zipped across the doorframe and hit something out of my vision with a 'THWACK!'

"Ow!" Jasmine exclaimed. "That's it you vlacas, you asked for it!"

A return fire of blue projectiles shot across my vision.
"Ow!" Chris yelled.

I peered my head more cautiously outside the door and my mouth dropped open. Spread out across the dry grass was a series of traffic barriers and lone unfinished sections of fencing spread out like the obstacles of a pinball machine. Figures dressed in black protective gear toted around guns like toy soldiers from barrier to barrier, ducking and rolling, occasionally firing streaks of red or blue at another figure.

Kaia appeared beside me at the doorframe, munching on her toast. "Like it?" She asked.

"Why are they shooting each other?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Paintball. Combat practice I suppose. Though mostly it's just fun."

I looked down at the red paint splattered in the middle of my orange camp shirt and winced at the bruise I already felt growing underneath it. "Fun hurts then."

Kaia disappeared and came back with two protective vests and a pair of guns. "You wanna join in?" She asked.

I grinned. "You bet."

Notes