Shoot House

Posted: January 14, 2016 in Creative Writing
Tags: , ,

So below is a short story that I wrote in one of my classes.  It’s a draft and not a complete story as one of the rules for the submission is that it could only be 600 words.  Hope you enjoy and leave any feedback.

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“Are you ready for this, Malcolm?”  Dennis asked while smoothly re-holstering his 9mm.

“Just another day,” I said even though my heart was beating so fast, that it felt like I had a jack hammer beating away at my ribs.

“Just remember to check your corners, and for God’s sake don’t shoot the damn hostage,” he said while a smirk lit up his face from ear to ear.  Dennis had always been the calm collected one throughout training, and he wouldn’t let this final evolution faze him in the slightest.  “Oh and one more thing, Alpha team completed the evolution in 3:45 so you know we have to complete it even faster.

“3:45 huh,” I muttered, pulling my plate carrier over my head, and trying to steady my heart beat, knowing full well that it was going to be incredibly difficult to beat that time.  “Well, I’ll need you to breach then, the hammer slows me down too much, and you’re built like a freaking bull so the added weight shouldn’t hurt you as much.”

“Bravo team to the ready line, Bravo team to the ready line,” came a loud crackly voice over the PA system, built into every room of the training facility.

“That’s us buddy!” said Dennis shouldering the 25-pound breaching hammer, and clapping me on the back.

“Right behind you buddy,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, again trying desperately to steady my heart rate and shaky nerves.  Grabbing my M-4 carbine, I methodically checked that my magazine was secure and the safety was on.  We had come to far for me to get kicked out for a safety violation.  Jogging to catch up to Dennis I grabbed my black gloves from my pocket and pulled them on forcibly, making sure they were on tight and that I still had full finger movement.

Leaving the training building, we crossed the open field to the infamous “kill house”.  A building that was altered daily to ensure we never knew what the house would look like, providing more realistic training.  In the last six months we had each fired many thousands of rounds, but this would be our last visit.

Moving to the front door of the house we toed the ready line, and gave each other a quick fist bump, then it was show time.

“Bust EM,” said the voice over the PA system.

Dennis surged forward, gathering the hammer in both hands he slammed it into the door with such force that it came off the hinges.  I was through the doorway in an instant, sweeping my muzzle to the right, and checking my assigned corners.  Dennis moved smoothly behind me taking the left side of the room.

“ROOM RIGHT!” I said instantly moving to stack on the doorway to the next room.

Stacking behind me, Dennis squeezed my left shoulder signaling that he was ready.  With sure footing I stepped into the next room and analyzed what I saw within seconds.  Target dead center of the room behind a couch, another target to the right by a window, target three in the left corner, and the hostage tied to a chair against the far wall.

Training and instinct took over.  Fwip, Fwip, double tap to the center target.  Fwip, Fwip, target two down.  I can hear Dennis engaging his single target to the left.

“Two tango’s down!” I yell.
“One tango down,” came his response.

“Room clear, hostage secure!” I yell, putting my M-4 on safe and letting it hang.

“Your time is,” came the voice from the PA….

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