Seven Are Left

"Wake up, Magnus, you need to go."

Amicus' voice jolted Magnus awake. He had been asleep for the past five hours, finally falling asleep after an hour of Thomas' snoring, but now it was time for him to wake. Magnus sat up in his cot, rubbing his eyes. He put on his uniform and grabbed his rifle. This time he had a semi-automatic rifle that had clips instead of magazines, each clip only containing eight rounds.

He put a clip in, cocked the gun with the bolt on the right-hand side, and put the saftey on. He also grabbed his sidearm, a revolver, put the six round clip into the gun, and stuck it by his hip after turning the saftey on.

Magnus lifted up one of the tent flaps over his head and looked around. No one was awake and he couldn't see the company commander or Gold Squad, so he made his way over to the company commander's office, the very same tent he was in just a few hours ago.

Knocking on the tent, there was no response. Assuming that the company commander was with Gold Squad, Magnus went to the dining tent, being hungry and expecting no food until dinnertime.

When he was outside of the dining tent and walking towards it about to seek entry, he flashedback to yesterday. The whole scene with the Oyashiman scout and his bursting into this same structure replayed in his head until he shook his head, heeding the advice Amcius had given him before he fell asleep.

Ready to put enough food for the day into his stomach, Magnus bodly entered the dining tent, not caring for the consequences. The Gold Squad and the company commander were also inside eating. They all looked over to the indifferent Administrator, mouths filled with food, and continued after they realized it was just Magnus.

They continued talking about the mission plans while eating, and did not stop to fill Magnus in as he sat down next to them after getting all the MRE a man could ask for in one life, which was two, since a man would only be able to power through the nastiness that was an Meal Ready to Eat.

Magnus stared at his plate of the only food they had and listened to what they were talking about.

"No, they couldn't possibly be there. The ground is too rocky and uneven. You wouldn't be able to set up camp there, even if you tried!", shouted one of the squad members, pointing to the map of the island that lay in front of them on the table.

"That's what I'm saying, the land is so inhospitable there that it makes it the least obvious choice. It's an area that the enemy wouldn't even consider. What do you think, Jackson?", argued another one of the squad members. They had been with Jackson ever since the beginning of the war with the Oyashimans, and so the squad was familiar with him.

"What about right here.", said Magnus, chipping into a conversation at a dinner table of more than four people for the first time since the fiasco at basic training. He pointed to a mountain in the middle of the jungle. To him, it was the prime spot for a camp, as it was close to the coast of the island, surrounded by jungle, and it had height.

That spot was really the ideal spot, and Jackson thought so too, saying, "I think our boy is right. This is the textbook spot for a camp, and the Oyashimans would never pass on it. However, common sense tells us to make contingency plans. So, how about we check out the possible campsites near it and check it last, hopefully right before the sun rises.

"Our 'plan B' will be to stick together and make it to this spot.", continued the company commander, pointing at a hill in the second half of the jungle, "If we are caught in an attack, we don't want to lead them right to our camp. So, we lead them to the best defensive position for us, this hill right here. The jungle is split into two, and the hill is in the other part than the presummed Oyashiman camps. Magnus, when we make it here, I want you to gather the Red and Blue Squads and try to save us. Everyone good with this?"

The Gold Squad had no objections, and Magnus didn't either. They went with the plan, and they each finished their premature breakfast. By the time he finished, it was time to roll out.

One of the six from the legendary Gold Squad grabbed the map, his specialty being navigation. The eight men were locked and loaded. They ventured into the pitch black jungle, the vegitation being so dense it was hard to move and the sunlight would barely penetrate the layer of leaves.

The one who led them was the one with the map, followed by Magnus, four more of the Gold Squad, Lieutenant Jackson, and then the last of the six. Their formation was a single-file line, making sure no one got lost through a buddy system, as each man was tied to another.

It was only a rope, but it was tied with a bit of slack and was easily removed, in case they needed to scatter. An example of a scatter situation would be if a grenade was thrown. If that happened, one of the two, decided by the two through prior discussion, would remove the rope and give the rope a tug, signalling to the other it was safe to run.

Through this system, they would ensure survival, which was the second most priority. Their main priority was to find the Oyashiman camp. They would risk life and limb to accomplish this, and once they did, they needed to ensure the survival of at least one of the members of the group.

Walking through the dense forest, eight steps were heard every second. If there was one more, they would need to stop and locate the extra sound in, what was for the moment, a silent forest.

They crept around. The tension was thick and each man was ready for a fight. The Gold Squad was the legendary squad of specialists who performed miracles on the battlefield, which was a requirement for getting into the squad. As such, they were all ready to fight and survive, and give up their life if necessary.

The Gold Squad contained eight men: a navigation expert, a espionage expert, a sharpshooter, a demolition expert, a berserker, and an expert in the field of predictions. Each of the men were referred to by a codename, which was something relevant to their specialty, so they would not get attatched to one another. Magnus was tied to the navigation expert but was partial to the berserker. They had talked during their breakfast.

The berserker was interested in Magnus' story, and when Magnus brought up the parts where he used a shovel exclusively, friendship blossomed.

The berserker was a specialist in being able to wipe out hordes of hostiles by himself. He was best known for using melee weapons exclusively. The miracle he had preformed was rather recent, but not as recent as the Predictor. Viking, as he was referred to as had they used the berserkers, performed a miracle of saving a company which was outnumbered 3:1 by taking out two whole companies of 100 men each.

Magnus discussed with Viking the intricacies of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. Magnus received some tips from him, and was reviewing the material in his head when he heard a sound.

After five hours of slow travel through the black referred to as a jungle, there was the echoing sound of a twig snapping. All of the eight men went from alert to battle mode.

Magnus and Columbus, the navigator, went behind the other six, as they needed Columbus to make it to the checkpoints. Sniper and Jackson were at the front of their defensive formation with Spy and Dynamite behind them. Behind the espionage expert and the demolition expert was Viking and Psychic.

With this formation, they waited for another hint to the location. Sniper pulled out his handgun with a silencer on it and prepared to shoot.

There! Another sound echoed through the darkness of the silent jungle. Sniper shot. A scream. Someone had been hit by the shot!

Over to the screams, they all ran, retaining their formation. They saw it was an Oyashiman through the light of a flare, but what is this? He has a grenade? He's going to blow us all up! Quick! Off with the ropes!

Magnus got the rope over his shoulders and head as quick as possible and gave it a tug. Spy and Jackson did the same. Psychic had already done so, predicting the whole fiasco as soon as he heard the second twig snap.

An explosion echoed through the dark jungle. When each of the seven men got back up, Columbus did not. He had ran right to the blast and was killed by the shrapnel of the grenade. No longer having a profficient navigator, the seven despaired.

However much they wanted to mourn the death, they could not. The location had been given away. It was time to move. As they stepped over the shrubs to go to a mountain the mountain in the center to get a vantage point, the rising sun broke through the leaves, revealing little of the jungle, but enough to get around without the ropes.