A shot echoed through the trees. That didn’t take long. It had to be Gray. In this game, he would undoubtedly go on the offensive.
I again focused on my flag. It had to be controlled by some sort of releasing program. Maybe it released when the owner was shot. That would make sense, but I was not going to wait to get shot to find out.
I climbed on top of the mound. If anyone had their sight aimed at me, he would shoot now. I would never be a better target.
Knowing that, I had to move fast. I kicked the metal stick as hard as I could. The stick didn’t break, but the concrete did. It was only a little, but it was enough to give me hope.
Another shot fired. Was that Gray? How was he finding people so quickly? Maybe it was Brad. I couldn’t underestimate him.
I kicked at the stick again an
