Training Day

"Here's what you have to do," Low Light said, beginning the explanation of the second half of training. "You have to avoid the Cobra snipers."

"Cobra snipers?" Lance asked. "There are Cobra snipers here?"

"Not real ones. There are automated, motion-sensitive paintball guns hidden in strategic places around the course," the instructor answered. "They are acting as Cobra snipers. You have to make it from one end of the course to the other and back without getting a fatal hit."

"Fatal?" Adam squeaked out. "We're gonna die?"

"No. Head, heart, possibly abdomen…they count as fatal. You won't die, but if you get hit in an area that could be fatal if hit by a real bullet, then it counts as your death and you can't go on. There's a flag at the opposite end of the course. Get it and bring it back here. Now put your protective goggles on and go."

"It won't be so bad. This is bound to be better than the obstacle course," Carly grinned, slipping on the glasses.

"Famous last words," Pietro grumbled.

"Look on the bright side, this could be worse," Althea pointed out as they cautiously entered the course.

"How so?" Xi asked.

"For one, they could be real Cobra Snipers."

"We could take them no problem," Todd grinned.

"And for another, it could be Beach Head or Lifeline shooting at us."

"You're right…this could be worse," Fred grinned.

"Incoming!" Adam called out as he knocked Pietro and Lance to the ground, trusting the others to duck of their own volition.

"Get off me!" Pietro groaned.

"Sorry," the light bender said with a grin. "That was a close one. Anyone get hit?"

"No, you jumpy little psycho," Lance grumbled. "That was a rabbit."

Adam looked to where the older boy was pointing and put an innocent expression on his face. "Sorry, it sounded like a gun."

"I say that if he gets hit, we leave him behind," Carly said. "All those in favor say 'aye.'"

"No one gets left behind unless it's a 'fatal hit.' Then it's every person for themselves," Althea ordered. "Come on, let's go get that stupid flag. The sooner it's done, the sooner we're out of here."

A few minutes later the group was almost through to the other side of the obstacle course—and the flag—with no hits.

"I think Low Light has gone nuts," Wanda said. "He's made this much too easy."

"I told you this would be better than the obstacle course," Carly grinned. Then a look of pain and shock washed over her face as she fell forward onto the ground.

"Carly! Are you okay?" Adam asked as he knelt down beside the feral girl.

"She's bleeding," Todd announced, seeing the dark red pool of liquid among the girls red-black hair.

"That's not blood," Wanda said, lightly touching the wet fluid. "It's paint. She was smacked in the head with a paintball."

"That hurt!" Carly half-groaned, half-snapped. "Talk about instant headache!"

"You're never going to live this down," Pietro laughed. Then another red paintball smacked him in the forehead, just above his goggles.

"Now who's not gonna live it down, you geek?" the feral snapped. "Now will someone just go get the flag so we can go see Lifeline?"

As the others moved away they could hear Pietro complaining.

"This stuff better not dye my hair. It's bad enough it's going to leave a mark! How could someone be so sadistic…"

"They're going to get hit by more paintballs, aren't they?" Fred asked quietly.

"Probably," Althea responded as they heard the sound of another paintball launching and another of Pietro's shocked shrieks. "Yep, they're definitely going to get hit some more."

"You know, I think I love this training session," Lance laughed. "Pietro getting hit is more than worth the trouble."