Sewer Rats Read Free Page B

said. “I’m not worried. Our guys are tough.”
    I wondered if they were tunnel tough. It’s a different world in there, with the smallest sound echoing in every direction.
    â€œNo paint bullets above the shoulders, right?” Mr. Army asked. It was their army against ours. As we tried to take their flag, we would also be trying to put their soldiers out of the game.
    â€œRight,” Micky said. “Someone shoots you high, they’re out, you’re still in.”
    We were crazy but we weren’t stupid. Paintball bullets hurt badly enough anywhere else on your body. The last place you want to get hit is in the throat.
    â€œArms and legs are half hits?” Mr. Army asked.
    â€œYup,” Micky told him. “It takes two shots in the arms or legs to put you out. But a shot to the stomach, chest or back is an instant kill. Dead soldiers come out here and wait for the game to end.”
    â€œWe got it,” the Medford guy said. “What else?”
    Micky looked at his watch. “You guys are the challengers, so you get to set up first. We give you thirty minutes to hide your flag before we go into the tunnels. Then you wait where you are and give us twenty minutes. Ifyou head in now the war will start at eleven o’clock. After that, anyone moving in the tunnels is fair game.”
    â€œAny boundaries in there? In Cadets, they limit the size of the field for war games. Otherwise we could be down there for hours.”
    â€œYou’ll find out soon enough that the boundaries are set by the size of the tunnels. Most of the sewers are too small to move through.”
    â€œGot it,” Mr. Army said. It looked like he wanted to salute.
    â€œGood luck,” Micky said.
    Mr. Army rubbed at his mustache. “We don’t need luck.”
    â€œIf you say so,” Micky said. He pointed at the sky. “One other thing. It’s clear now, but you never know in an hour or two. If it starts to rain and you see any water in the tunnels, the game is off. No matter if one team is up by five warriors. Everyone leaves the tunnel and we come back to fight another day. Got it?”
    â€œGot it.” Mr. Army turned and faced his gang.
    â€œMen, prepare for battle,” he barked.
    They all put their helmets on at the same time. They looked like robots.
    â€œAbout face,” Mr. Army barked.
    They all turned toward the black hole of the tunnel. They didn’t move toward it though.
    â€œMove out, men,” Mr. Army said.
    The Medford guys began to march. The guy who reached the tunnel first held the door open so the others could slip inside. One by one, they stepped into the darkness of the tunnel. Each one of them had to crouch to move inside.
    When they were all inside, Mr. Army barked out again. This time his voice had a weird echo from the concrete walls of the tunnel.
    â€œLet the operation begin,” he said.
    All together, they began to march forward. The echo of their footsteps continued to reach us long after they had disappeared into the darkness.
    And then there was silence, broken only by the whistling of the wind in the trees.

chapter six
    We waited ten minutes to open our duffel bags and take out our paintball guns. There was no sense in having all the stuff out in the open, just in case somebody wandered along and decided to ask questions.
    We loaded our paintballs. Think of gum balls filled with paint. That’s what a paintball bullet is. An expensive paintball gun is accurate up to one hundred feet away.
    Does it hurt when a paintball hits you? It’s about the same as getting hit by a tennis ball,a really fast tennis ball. That’s why we wore layers of clothing for protection: sweatshirts with jean jackets over top. We also made sure our necks were covered with scarves. Get hit there, and you’d have a bruise for weeks.
    All of us had pump-action guns. The semi-automatics fired paintballs faster, but none of us could afford