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Freddie's War: Chapter Three
Posted By: Jason Nash<rjnash@optusnet.com.au>
Date: 22 May 2005, 12:22 AM
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Don Groving wiped the sweat off his brow. He looked down at his S2 AM Sniper Rifle. It was getting hot in his hands, and his palms were seating. He slipped the rifle down against the rock.
Don was camped atop the valleys east side, overlooking a Covenant camp. Don was dehydrated, as he had run out of water the day before. He had a searing headache and a lot of sunburn.
He had come to PT-569 with Freddie's division, but was left behind before Freddie and his troops set up camp in the valley. He had to wander around the deserts and grassy plains, until he came across the valley. He was now surveying the Covenant camp, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. He would then steal the Covenant's supplies for himself and try to regroup with the rest of the Human troops.
But Don was totally exhausted from sitting under an umbrella in the hot sun with only a Sniper Rifle, a can of dog food and seven boxes of Sniper Rifle ammunition with him. The sun had already dried out all the lakes on this half of the planet, so he had to go without any water, which would probably result in his own death.
It was now midday, and using his S2 AM's scope, he zoomed in on the Covenant camp. He could see about seven Elites, including a Gold Elite with a Plasma Sword, walking around patrolling the camp.
The Grunts were carrying boxes and repairing the Banshees and Ghosts, presumably ones used in the early stages of battle. One of the makeshift shanties in the camp had a Hunter standing in it, waiting for orders from its commander. Don could see its orange weak-spots clearly, so Don, without thinking, fired off two shots.
The Hunter, taken completely off-guard, fell forward in a heap, orange blood spilling all around it. The Elites suddenly stopped walking, and with their weapons at the ready, were looking around frantically for who had killed the Hunter.
The Grunts were now running about screaming. Don plugged the Gold Elite with two head shots, the first one disabling its shield while the second killing it.
Seeing the rifle bullets contrails, the rest of the Elites looked in Don's direction. They saw his umbrella sticking up above the ridge. The Elites rushed forward, Don shooting them with ease.
Don, in the middle of reloading his rifle, didn't notice the looming shadow over him.
He felt something hard and heavy slam into the back of his head and then the ground rushing up towards him, and then nothing more.
Freddie sat at the large fold-up table in the middle of the camp, eating lunch with the troops who were taking a break.
He crunched down into the roast chicken flavored bar, screwing up his face at the cardboard taste of it.
The only food they had left were substitute foods, or 'Phony Foods' as his troops like the call them. They were bars which were full of vitamins and minerals and flavored something, but all they actually tasted like was cardboard.
Freddie knew the only way to win the battle was break the stale-mate between the Humans and Covenant. And that meant a full-on counter-attack towards their camp.
He cleared his throat.
"Troops!" He called out. Several heads turned to face him.
"Troops, it's time we attacked the Covenant here in this valley and then move in to retake the Human town beyond the camp. There may be many human prisoners being tortured by the Covenant, and it is our duty to save them. So, tonight, under cover of darkness, we will attack their camp."
"But sir, a full-on attack like that would be suicide," a troop sitting at the end of the table said.
"No it wouldn't...Well; it wouldn't if we planned it out..."
"You're not even sure about this yourself, sir."
"I know, I know, but it's the only way to break the stale-mate."
"Have you got a plan sir?"
Freddie thought about that for a moment, then said, "A simple plan, yes..."
Don opened his eyes. A searing pain shot up through his legs as he tried to sit up.
Don couldn't see anything, and for a moment thought he had gone blind. But then he realized it was only the darkness of the room he was in.
He looked down at himself, and saw that his pants were cut and torn and covered in blood, his own blood. No attempt whatsoever had been made to cover up his wounds.
He tried to remember what had happened: he had managed to kill a Hunter and some Elites from his vantage point atop the ridge, then he was hit in the head by someone or something and had fell down the ridge, cutting himself in several places. He remembered seeing an Elite standing up on the ridge, laughing. Then he had woken up here.
He looked at his watch. The days on this planet lasted for seventeen hours, and at the moment, it was just after lunchtime. Don's stomach rumbled. He was hungry, and had been for the past day or two.
He got up, but his legs were hurting quite a lot, so he had to lean against the wall to help him up.
He looked around. He was in a small, enclosed room with stone walls and a heavy, locked door as its entrance and exit.
He sat back down after finding the door locked, and after about an hour of hunger and boredom, the door opened. Light from outside spilled into the room, and Don had to shield his eyes from it for a little bit. A clawed hand slid a metal tray with brown lumps of stuff and stale water in a jug inside the cell before closing the door. Don looked at it, almost spewed at what it looked like, realized he had nothing to spew up, heard his stomach rumble and began eating and drinking whatever it was.
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