Paintball invasion, p.1
Paintball Invasion, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1: Marked
CHAPTER 2: Yellow?
CHAPTER 3: Something Weird
CHAPTER 4: Gone Crazy
CHAPTER 5: Ambush
CHAPTER 6: Banned
CHAPTER 7: Trying Again
CHAPTER 8: Just Us
CHAPTER 9: Chad’s Plan
CHAPTER 10: The Battle
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Glossary
Keeping Paintball Safe and Fun
Discussion Questions
Writing Prompts
Other Books By Jake Maddox
Internet Sites
Copyright
Back Cover
CHAPTER 1
MARKED
I heard the whiz of the paintball go past my ear.
Splat! It smashed against the bark of the huge oak tree I was hiding behind.
I wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding. The paintball almost hit me right in the head.
I couldn’t see the person who had tried to mark me. Quickly, I dove behind a bush.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Before I could do anything, though, I needed to check to make sure I wasn’t out of the game. If I’d been hit, that was it for me.
I didn’t think that the paintball had hit me. But in other games, I’d been marked without knowing it. Sometimes, if a paintball hit my helmet, I wouldn’t feel it. Then I’d be out of the game.
There was only one way to find out. I had to get to a safe place. I needed to be able to take my helmet off. I didn’t really feel safe where I was, hidden behind the bush. That last shot had surprised me, because I thought I knew exactly where my opponents were.
My best friend, Chad, and I were the last two members of our team still in the game.
The other team was down to two players too. Chad and I had been signaling to each other, and we thought we had trapped those two players between us. We figured we just needed to keep watch, and one of them would move, giving us a shot.
But the shot that had almost marked me had come from behind me. There was almost no way that one of the other players had snuck out from between us without me seeing him.
So how had it happened?
I thought hard, trying to figure out what had happened. I was pretty sure I’d been paying close attention. And I was also pretty sure that there were only two players left on their team, and they were somewhere in front of me.
It didn’t make sense. But there was something more important that I needed to worry about. I needed to find out if I was still in the game. I had to check my helmet.
Crawling on the ground as quietly as I could, I started to move toward our hideout.
Last summer, Chad and I had built a little fort between two bushes. We used a bunch of old wood that we found by the side of a road. We painted the fort in camouflage colors, so no one could see it.
It was a great place to hide during paintball games. We could stay safe there and make plans.
We made a promise never to fire a shot out of there. We didn’t want anyone else to know where it was.
We were pretty sure that no one had ever found our fort. After all, every time we went to the fort, it was empty. If someone else had found it, they definitely would have tried to use it as a hideout during a paintball game.
As I crawled toward the hideout, I stayed as low to the ground as I could.
After a few minutes, I was about 50 feet away from the hideout. I started crawling faster.
I could see the little wood fort, and if I could get there, I’d be safe.
That’s when I felt it. Splat! Something hit my leg, hard.
It stung sharply for a second. The pain went away quickly, but my anger bubbled as I realized what had happened.
I didn’t want to look down at my pants, but I did. There, right on the side of my left leg, was the yellow blob of a paintball splotch.
Just like that, I was out of the game.
CHAPTER 2
YELLOW?
The only good thing about getting hit was that I hadn’t made it to the hideout.
Whoever marked me was watching me. If they had waited longer to shoot, they might have seen me go into the hideout. Then our secret fort wouldn’t be a secret anymore.
All I could do now was stand up. I had to tell everyone that I’d been marked.
The helmet marking, if it had happened, didn’t matter anymore. Now I was out of the game for sure.
I stood up and raised my hands to show that I was leaving the playing area. Then I had to let Chad know what had happened.
“I’m out!” I yelled. “Chad, you’re on your own.”
Chad didn’t say anything, of course. He didn’t want to give away his position.
Even though my team was down to just one player, we weren’t out of the game. Chad was still safe. He was one of the best and smartest paintball players around.
I remembered other games, when he’d been the last player left on our team. He’d still been able to mark three or four players on the other team to get us the win.
I couldn’t do anything anymore, though. According to the rules we use, players who are out of the game can’t do anything to help players who are still alive. I couldn’t even signal to Chad.
So I just walked back to the starting point. I’d wait there for the game to end.
When I got to the starting point, I saw that players from both teams were standing around. A couple of guys had climbed trees to try to get a good look at what was going on. Most of the guys were just hanging out, talking.
There were six guys there, three from each team. We had started with five players on a side. The players were all kids from our middle school. We were all friends, and we played paintball almost every weekend.
Each time, we chose teams by picking bandanas out of a bag. We’d put an equal number of red and blue bandanas in the bag.
Then we’d reach in without looking, and whichever color bandana we pulled, that’s the team we were on. That would be the color of the paintballs that we’d shoot, too.
When I got back to the starting point, I noticed something weird. The other three guys on my team, the blue team, had all been marked by red paintballs. The guys on the red team were all marked with bright blue paint, the color my team was using.
But the splotch on my leg was yellow!
“Hey, guys,” I said. “Who’s shooting yellow?”
“What do you mean, Josh?” asked James, one of the guys on the other team. “We’re shooting red, remember?”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “But I got marked with yellow.”
Just then, Chad came walking out of the woods. He had a bright yellow splotch on his chest. When he got up to us, he noticed right away that he and I were the only ones marked with yellow.
“All right,” he said. “What’s going on here?”
CHAPTER 3
SOMETHING WEIRD
The eight of us just stared at each other. No one knew what was going on or what to say.
Finally, James looked over at me. “I think I know what’s going on, guys,” he said. “Michael’s got a big box of yellow paintballs at his house. Maybe he ran out of the red ones we were supposed to be using and just started using his yellow ones.”
That made sense to me. It didn’t explain how I got confused about where their team’s players were. But it did explain the yellow splotches on Chad and me.
James called out to his teammates. “Michael! Ray! The game is over. We won, so you can come back to the start!” he yelled.
There was a really long pause, but no noise from the woods.
Then we all started screaming. “Game’s over!” we called. “Red wins! Michael, Ray, come on in.”
Finally, there was a little rustling in the woods. At last, we saw Ray walking down the path. He was holding his marker over his head. That meant that he was out of the game.
As soon as he turned the corner on the path and could see us, Ray put his arms down. His head drooped too.
I could tell that he thought he was out of the game.
No one said a word as Ray got closer. Finally, when he was within shouting distance, Ray called out, “Sorry, guys. I got hit.”
“When?” James asked. I realized that he wanted to know if it was before or after Chad and I had been hit.
“It was just a second ago,” Ray said. “You know the rules. We have to leave the field as soon as we get hit.”
Now we were all confused. If all five players on the blue team were out, how had Ray gotten hit?
“Ray, there wasn’t anybody left on the other team to mark you,” James said.
Ray frowned. “Well, I don’t know how that’s possible,” he said. “I have the mark on my back to prove it.”
James grabbed Ray’s shoulder and swung him around. There, plain as the sun in the sky, was a big yellow splotch on the middle of Ray’s back.
We were all stunned. Finally, James looked around at the rest of us. “Okay,” he said, “now this is just plain weird.”
CHAPTER 4
GONE CRAZY
“What’s everyone looking at?” Ray asked. “Something wrong with my back?”
“It’s yellow,” I said. “The paintball you got hit with. It was yellow.”
“Yellow?” Ray asked. He sounded confused.
Suddenly, he noticed the yellow splat on my leg and the one on Chad’s chest. “Wait a second,” he said. “What is going on around here?”
I thought about it. Michael was a little bit odd. He had a weird sense of humor and he got bored really easily. So it wouldn’t be all that surprising if he just got bored playing the game the normal way and decided to start marking everyone with the wrong color, just for fun.
“It’s got to be Michael,” I said. “He’s just messing with us.”
Chad laughed. “That’s probably it,” he said. “I wonder if he knows that everybody’s out.”
“Why?” James asked. “Do you have something in mind?”
“Oh, yeah, you know I do,” Chad said.
Chad had some kind of plan brewing. I could tell. He smiled at me. Then he explained his plan to us.
Between Ray, who was Michael’s teammate, and me and Chad, we thought we could figure out where Michael was. Chad and I knew where he’d been when we left the field. And Ray knew where Michael had been when Ray got marked.
Chad’s idea was that all nine of the other players, no matter which team they were on, would spread out in a circle around that spot. Then we’d slowly close in on Michael. We’d all mark him with paintballs when we found him.
It was a great plan. We all agreed to it. Then we headed back into the woods, in different directions.
Chad figured out how to tell us what to do without letting Michael know. He said he’d make a bird call when it was time for all of us to head toward the spot where we thought Michael was hiding.
A few minutes later, I heard Chad’s bird call. Then I started marching slowly in.
Creeping, crawling, and moving along as quietly as possible, our circle kept getting smaller and smaller. Finally, we were within about 30 yards of each other.
I could see all eight of the other guys. James thought he spotted Michael, and he signaled the location to all of us with his hands.
We all nodded. Then we headed to the spot.
There were a bunch of shrubs in the area, but there was one pile of sticks that looked like someone had made it. Michael had to be hidden under there.
Finally, we were within about ten yards of the pile of sticks. James held up three fingers, telling us that we’d pounce on the count of three. He signaled to Chad to pull the sticks aside. The rest of us would get Michael.
I was pumped. This was our big chance to get back at Michael for messing with our game. We knew the ambush of paintballs wouldn’t hurt him, but it was sure to surprise him. It would be pretty funny at the same time.
James counted to three with his fingers. Then Chad ran for the stick pile, and the rest of us closed in.
Chad dove onto the pile, knocking sticks in all directions. As they flew off and Chad rolled away, the other eight of us all opened fire on the spot.
But after a second or two, we all stopped. Our paintballs were hitting empty ground.
Michael wasn’t there.
CHAPTER 5
AMBUSH
When we figured out that Michael was still missing, none of us really knew what to do next. We all stared at the ground. No one moved or said a word. We were all in shock.
After all, we had been so sure that Michael was there. But we couldn’t see him anywhere. We had been wrong about his location.
What were we supposed to do now?
Finally, Chad broke the silence with his laughter. But it wasn’t happy laughter, like someone had just told a joke. It was weird, crazy laughter.
Chad stopped laughing. Then he said, “I don’t know where he is, but when I find him, I’m going to—”
“Find who?” came a voice from behind us. It was Michael!
We all spun around and pointed our markers at him. But when we saw him, none of us tried to mark him.
Michael looked a little scared. And his shirt and pants were covered with yellow splotches.
“Guys,” he mumbled, “I got ambushed. And I never saw the guy coming. It was like he was everywhere, all around me.”
We all lowered our markers. Chad did too, but I could tell that he didn’t believe a word of Michael’s story.
“Oh, please,” Chad said. “You probably overheard us and splattered yourself with yellow paint. You’re just crazy enough.”
“I’m not crazy,” Michael said. “Why would I shoot myself with a color we’re not even using? That doesn’t make any sense, Chad.”
Chad snatched Michael’s marker out of his hand. He examined it closely.
It was full of red paintballs, and it didn’t have any yellow spots on it at all. Chad’s theory was starting to come apart.
“Come on, Michael,” Chad said. “Where’s the marker you were using for the yellow balls?”
“What are you talking about?” Michael yelled back. “Are you crazy? I wasn’t the one using yellow balls!”
There was dead silence. I was worried. I started to think that there might be a fight.
“I’m telling you, I got ambushed,” Michael said finally. “They were all over the place.”
I could tell that some of the other guys believed Michael. I looked closely at his face. He really did look scared. I was starting to believe him too.
Then a whizz went through the group. It came in from my left and sped quickly past my ear.
Then came a call from my right. “Caw-caw!” That was followed by a storm of yellow paintballs.
The paintballs were coming in from all directions. We ran, but it quickly became clear there was no way to escape.
We fired off a few weak shots, but there wasn’t much hope. The yellow paintballs just kept raining down on us.
Where were the people who were marking us? There had to be lots of them.
Finally, with another call of “Caw-caw!” the attack ended as fast as it had started.
As we lay on the floor of the woods, our clothes covered with yellow splotches, a stranger walked into the middle of our group.
CHAPTER 6
BANNED
The guy was dressed all in black. He was wearing black shoes, black pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a black helmet.
He was even wearing a black mask. The mask covered up his face. I couldn’t tell who he was.
I was pretty sure, though, that the guy was older than us. I thought he was probably in high school.
He turned and looked at each of us.
“This is a warning,” he said. “These woods belong to us. Come back again, and the same thing will happen to you.”
James sat up straight. “Wait a second. You can’t just make us leave these woods,” he said. “We’ve been playing here forever. And the woods don’t belong to you.”
“You don’t play here anymore,” the guy in black said. “The kiddie games are done. Time for the big kids to play.”
He turned and started to walk away. He wasn’t in any hurry. I could tell that he wanted to make a big exit, like something from the movies.
Chad scrambled to his knees. He drew his marker up to his eye.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” the stranger said.
He didn’t turn. He just kept walking away.
Chad slowly lowered the marker as the figure disappeared into the woods. We each struggled to get back to our feet.
Getting hit by a paintball doesn’t really cause any damage, but it does sting for a little while. We were all rubbing the spots where we got marked.
“Do you believe me now, Chad?” Michael asked quietly. “Still think I’m shooting myself?”
Chad shook his head. “No. I’m sorry,” he said.
The mystery of the yellow paintballs was solved. But we were still left with one question.
What should we do next?
The ten of us decided to have a meeting, right there in the woods. We sat in a circle to talk.
Some of the guys were scared. The ambushers were older, and they wanted the woods. The guys who were scared thought we should find another place to hang out.
Other guys thought maybe we could talk to the older guys. We could agree to play at different times.
