Paintball

"Give it up, Leo!" Jax’s voice echoed through the woods. "I can see your left sneaker!"

Jax returned fire instantly. A stream of blue paint whipped past Leo’s ear, one ball clipping a pine branch and showering him in a fine mist of blue liquid. Leo rolled behind a fallen oak, his heart hammering against his ribs. He checked his hopper—maybe twenty shots left. PAINTBALL

Leo pulled his foot back and adjusted his grip on his marker. "You’ve been saying that for three rounds, Jax. My sneakers are fine. Your aim, however..." "Give it up, Leo

Leo rose slowly, dripping with mud like a swamp monster. He raised his marker and took a steady breath. "Hey, Jax." Leo rolled behind a fallen oak, his heart

When he reached the end of the trench, he was ten feet behind Jax. Jax was still focused on the oak tree, waiting for Leo to peek.