Lying flat on her belly next to the east wall of the school, Sparkle raised her rifle and aimed in the direction of the coming attack. Her heart rate slowed as it always did in a firefight, her body calm and her finger on the trigger of his M4.
The fighters in the center group suddenly burst out of a gap at the valley’s mouth, closely followed by the one on the left, then the right. “Hold your positions,” Sparkle ordered. “No one gets past us.” They all knew what was at stake if they didn’t hold their ground. Dozens of innocent lives depended on them repelling the attack. Including Josh’s.
As an image of his face formed in her mind, she forced it away and sighted down the barrel of her weapon.
The enemy bore down on them in a suicidal rush, yelling their war cry. They began shooting in
