So, if the whole body armor, holograms, and near-life-sized shanty town weren't a good enough indicator, this isn't your Grandma's paintball. Or maybe it is, my grandmother was pretty hardcore and punched Neo-Nazis. Either way, as the game got more popular throughout the years, so did its complexity so much that we've got a total of 4 positions.
Scouts carry the lightest armor and weapons for speed and reconnaissance (Joe, Antonia). Dealers carry the most offensive armaments like semi-automatics, miniguns, and assault rifles (April, May Henry, Élise). Backers serve the opposite role with defensive riot shields and light weaponry (Sharmeen, Zoey). Then there are the Lookouts, the fancy word we had for snipers (Jared and yours truly).
Sharmeen and the others have argued about being a Backer or even a Dealer, given my on-field presence. And while I don't mind taking a bullet for anyone on my team, both with and without armor, I prefer being out of the thick if I'm not called to do so. Getting a bird's eye view of everything, enjoying life's little splendors, and taking it all in to empty your head for that moment was the most fun feeling in the world. A sensation I held onto as Scribe started belting out the play-by-play.
"20 minutes have passed so far and a drop of paint hasn't been spilled yet. But fear not dear viewers at home, if our 1999 championships are anything like this game! Then things are going to heat up like a sauna soon!"
"Keep your wits about you Dogs, keep within Jared and James line of sight at all times. We won't move in until we all can group in," Sharmeen crackled before the comms.
"Pfft, please! By the time Toni and I find the Fatals, they'll get lit up like a bonfire," Joe said intently.
"It was that kind of showboating that got you out first last time," Élise replied teasingly.
"Hey, that was last year. Now I'm faster, stronger, smarter and even more care-."
Joe tripped on himself mid-stride, nearly sending him on a one-way trip to the ground if not for a last-second grab from a nervous Antonia. From my scope, it might have been charming if it weren't for my commlink receiving every piece of his "commentary."
"AHHHAHAHHAHHAHAHH! FOR THE MOTHERFUCKING LOVE OF GOD DON'T FUCKING DROP ME!"
A panicky Antonia managed to pull him up as Joe clung to her like a scared child.
"Oh, thank you, Toni. Thought I was a goner back there."
"I told you before Joe I don't like-"
Joe immediately paid back the favor as he pushed Antonia back from a rogue sniper shot. From there, both of them pulled evasive maneuvers, dodging slugs till they got pinned up against some rooftop cover. Amidst her quivering, Antonio screamed across the radio.
"Help! Joe and I are getting rained on by a Fatale."
"Better make that plural," another voice said.
An enemy scout flipped over Joe and Antonio's cover and spun towards them with twin paint side arms raised. She never got the chance, though, as Jared and I immediately fired twin sniper rounds at her back. Black paint drenched over her shoulders as Joe rushed her down with pellets of his own to finish her off. Joe signaled a minor thumbs up to both of us. A rookie mistake that broke one of paintball's sacred rules.
"Always be on guard, 'cause when paint's involved, you can "dye" at any time."
Quickly following her fellow friend, two Dealers from the Femme Fatales loaded a Tommy gun like an old Capone flick and tried firing straight at Joe. Or were supposed to if Zoey and Sharmeen didn't dive in for another daring save. Scarlet splatter rained on their riot shields like hail as the two women held on for dear life.
"You sure do know how to pick the absolute worst places to be in Joe," Zoey said angrily.
"James, Jared, do you have a line of sight?"
"Sure do fearless leader," I said while aiming another shot.
My opportunity never came though as I felt a red streak strike me down. When I came too, I patted down my body, only to see small shreds of red paint on my sniper rifle. Jared signed away in concern, but I answered them all with a simple reload.
"Don't worry Jared, it was just a love tap," I say while zooming down the scope, "And I'm about to return the favor."
My retired elementary math teacher did backflips from beyond the grave as I calculated the shot's trajectory to a small bunker made of barrels. Like an armored turret, the tip poked out menacingly as it reared its head again toward me. The small shantytown transformed into a good old-fashioned Clint Eastwood Western when we locked eyes.
Crystal clear vision and steady hands guided my shot as I stayed still as a possum, leaving no clue where I'd shoot. Then I kept my breathing calm and poked out my tongue like a forked snake, checking the wind for any changes. When a small gust from the southeast blew in, we both fired. Using the recoil of my rifle, I avoided the shot by a hair's breadth while landing mine exactly where I needed it.
Instead of hitting my enemy, I blew apart the weakest point of the structure to open up the shooter for a clean headshot down the middle. Satisfied with my victory, I looked over to the other Dogs to realize they were living up to the other half of the name. The two enemy Dealers were so preoccupied with the onslaught they overlooked our duo of destruction.
Beneath their feet, two grenades from Henry and Élise rolled to their feet before getting annihilated in one massive black boom. Amid the ebony rain, the two walked through like it was the red carpet.
"God this is going to look so good in the highlight reel," Élise said while fixing her nails.
"Oh, you know it," Henry said as he fistbumped her.
The others descended to ground level, just in time for two Backers and two Scouts to charge in for another pincer attack. As more shots got fired, Sharmeen immediately took charge.
"Huddle up now!"
"Right, they all said simultaneously."
Like rats, Sharmeen and Zoey packed around the other 3, crouching to protect their legs from the fire.
"April, May can you give us a little covering fire?!"
Curiously, I am still waiting for a response.
"APRIL AND MAY, ARE YOU THERE?!"
The only answer Sharmeen got was winding static as I heard her breathing start to get more hurried. I was about to calm her down again, but Jared covered perfectly. Like a crack of thunder, Jared let out two paintball shots. Both ricocheted like bouncing balls all over the paintball field, from barrels, water throughs, and brittle signs until they found the opposing Backers' legs, stunning them briefly.
While I reloaded, I couldn't help but feel Jared's eyes hone on my approval as I gave him a thumbs up.
"Not bad man. Not bad at all."
Noticing opportunity was blowing in her favor, Sharmeen took advantage.
"Élise, Joe and Henry give covering fire, Antonia, pull out your brush blade now!"
"But, Sharmeen, I can't-"
"We've trained for this, Atononia; you've got this. Believe."
Without hesitation, the Dogs exploded out of their formation, pushing the Backers… back as Sharmeen went for her secret weapon. While it was originally made as a joke weapon by some Gearheads in the past, overwhelming fan support in the forums from the back of the day deemed these little bad boys a necessity in paintball once the guns failed.
Hence, the Brush Blades were formed, and little trick retractable knives were made to spread maximum paint in CQC. Through our fearless leader's hellish training, we became well-versed in using them, but only she and Antonia remained undefeated in skill. That became clear as the two in perfect sync sailed across the various paintballs as they flipped over the Backer's massive shields to deliver multiple stabs.
The remaining Scouts tried running away in surprise, but they fell just as quickly as they got gunned down yours truly. The battle stopped as suddenly as it began, silencing the entire world to be silent until we Dogs did what we did best and made some noise.
"WHOOOOOO!!!! Do we rock, or do we rock???!!!!" Henry said as he called for a high five Joe promptly answered.
"Oh, we rock like road man!! Not even 30 minutes in we cleared most of the competition. Two more and that trophy is as good as ours!"
Zoey responded.
"I'm more excited for the medal. It's going to look great with my lacrosse medals."
I translated Jared's signs as Jared and descended our vantage points.
"Jared says any drinks will be on him, including sodas for you if you're up for it, Sharmeen."
My fellow sniper's request went unanswered, realizing our leader was still deep in thought. Something we all seemed to notice before too long. Pure concern covered my voice like an overcast.
"Hey, is something wrong?"
"Yes. It's just compared to last time, that was easy."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily, but it does beg the question. Why didn't the twins answer?"
Another dreaded silence took over the team until our comm links burst with one horrid message.
"Help … me."
Those two words alone had us stampeding through the field at a breakneck pace, eventually finding our way to their location. And what we found was a massacre. Or at least a massacre by paintball standards. This is still a comedy chapter, after all. Still, the sight wasn't pretty.
Dried paint stained the forest ground, etching May and April's defeated bodies on the ground like a chalk outline at a crime scene. They were also stripped bare, missing their weapons, dog tags, and commlinks. Their departure from the game is signified by their emblems turning blank.
We all reacted in our ways, some desperate, trying to deny their impromptu departure while others tried checking for our mystery assailant. Sharmeen and I, though, couldn't simply stand frozen in place. For her, it was out of abject terror. It was out of experience, knowing nothing could be done. Regardless, Scribe ironically painted the picture better than we ever could.
"What did I say, folks?! 30 minutes passed, and things heated to a straight 100 degrees Celsius! The Dogs of War has managed to pull ahead to a massive lead at the cost of two of their members! Will they be able to pull ahead or will they soon fall on their गधा to their mystery opponent?! Only time will tell."