A.J counted down to one and a series of simultaneous events took place. It all happened in less than a second, true carnage.

  John’s revolvers appeared in his hands just as he felt the impact of warm metal pierce his shoulder, near the bone. He was forced backwards by the impact and fired off a shot with his other hand accidentally as he spun to the side from the force of the bullet.

  Grandma pressed down on the triggers of her gatling guns, abandoning the group’s initial plan and adapting to the message John had sent via the chat. It would take a few seconds for the guns to rev up and begin to fire.

  The Captain and all the kids made an immediate dash towards the Hungry Jacks fast food restaurant which was tilted and half sunken into the ground on their left, the burger-shaped sign above the door hung on by a thread. The Captain was practically shoulder to shoulder with the glass panelled front door. When time resumed he immediately swung it open and beckoned the kids inside.

  Truffle opened his mouth and activated Pig Squeal, aiming the blast at the nearby koalas who flew into the air as if caught up in a tornado. Some landed atop the gas station roof directly behind them, whilst others landed amidst the random solo contestants who were trapped between the Russians and John’s alliance. One of the solos jumped to the roof and began stomping the beasts into the ground, popping them like blood filled water balloons. He was the living embodiment of why one should never skip leg day, until he took a stray bullet to the skull and his body flopped off the side, landing in a gymnastic contortion on the concrete.

  As John continued to spin, dropping to the floor, he lifted his good arm and continued firing pot shots in the general direction of the Russians, but they had already begun to spread out.

  Clearly they knew what they were doing and their teamwork was flawless. Spreading out from one another, they set up a firing line. Some dropped into ditches to make themselves smaller targets, others hid behind cover in the gas station and the broken skyscraper opposite it. They all opened fire in John’s general direction.

  He had no idea why they were targeting him specifically. Had they seen him on a recap episode and decided to eliminate the competition? If so why weren’t they targeting Agnes, she was clearly the more dangerous foe.

  Nothing made sense. Pressing himself hard into the ground he decided to crawl towards the Hungry Jack’s. By this point all the kids were already inside, cowering underneath the typical fast food restaurant style tables.

  The Captain was using the remaining furniture to make a barricade near the far window which looked directly out towards the Russian’s position. John wondered if it had been a mistake asking him to use his once per week RPG on The Emperor. It would have come in handy right about now, they could blow up the gas station with it.

  Unfortunately his dragon’s breath rounds wouldn’t reach that far and he was reluctant to attempt blowing something up with them if he couldn’t do it from a safe distance. He’d already felt the backdraft of his own shells first hand and there was no way he was going to repeat that mistake.

  In the background, behind the gas station, explosions rocked the battle zone, a different skyscraper was already on fire, and a huge shrimp monster – like the one John and Truffle had faced back in Perth – was roaming around looking like an edible Godzilla.

  The sound of chainsaws roared as Agnes’ gatling guns finally finished revving up. Rounds exploded out of them, tearing through the terrain. A pink mist sprayed into the air like an aerosol as her bullets ripped through the gas station wall which one of the Russians was hiding behind.

  BOOM!

  Fire erupted upwards as rounds collided with the fuel pumps. A stream of fire flared outwards angrily roasting one of the solo contestants and the koala that was gnawing on his leg like it was a chicken wing.

  Screaming, the man ran for a few steps and then dropped to the floor rolling. He had obviously seen those old adverts the fire department put out in the 70’s, John wasn’t that old, but even he could envision Dick Van Dyke explaining the procedure.

  It didn’t work.

  As the man rolled furiously across the red sand, tears streaming down his melting face, he left a smear of charred skin on the floor with each rotation. It was almost like his face was a Tipp-ex roller. John didn’t have time to feel sorry for the guy, even if he was just caught in the crossfire.

  Agnes had created the perfect diversion though, buying John an extra few seconds to throw himself through the Hungry Jack’s door.

  “Mr John, you’re bleeding,” Lilia said in a horrified voice. She was the girl who now had robotic limbs thanks to the card John had implanted in her chest. He hadn’t spoken to her much since he’d dragged them in a box all the way to the ship. Back then she barely spoke, it seemed she’d found her voice again.

  As she reached out to touch him, he felt cold steel against his flesh. It was odd, disconcerting, but he refused to allow his face to show it.

  It’s my fault she had to live to see this war zone. I will make sure it isn’t all for nothing.

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,” he replied, trying to smile, though it came out as more of a grimace.

  “Use this,” The Captain said, tearing the sleeve from the checked shirt he’d bought at the kiosk the previous day and revealing a t-shirt tan which made his arm look like a Drumstick lolly. “So much for improving my look, ay?”

  “You look like a true southerner now,” John said, flashing him a pained smile, John caught the fabric and tied it tightly around his shoulder joint. Shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth, he then jabbed his index finger around the edges of the wound, feeling for the unmistakable lump of a bullet. There was no exit wound on the opposite side of his shoulder so it had to be inside him somewhere. He just hoped it was still whole. Fragmentation would cause him no end of issues unless he could get to The Outback Sleep Shack and go to bed, an unlikely thing to happen during the final battle of round one. His contestant regeneration wouldn’t activate whilst a foreign object was inside the wound, Buck had explained as much to him not long after the start of the game.

  “Hey, kid,” John said with a grimace, “how small are those robot fingers?”

  Lilia shuffled towards him on her bionic knees and held out a hand. She really did look like a Terminator without the skin suit. Her hands weren’t tiny, but they were significantly smaller than John’s. It was as if the card knew to give her robotic limbs that matched her current size.

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  Her metal fingers were thin, about the width of chopsticks. That was far from perfect but it would have to do.

  “I need you to do me a favour,” he said, looking the girl in the eyes and trying to put on a brave face. “I need you to reach into this wound and pull out the bullet. Use your thumb and forefinger and just ease it out, nice and careful. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  Lilia’s eyes glistened with the threat of tears. Her lip trembled as she stared at the gushing wound. Gritting her teeth, she nodded and John put the brim of his Stetson back in his mouth, biting down hard.

  Cold steel shocked him as it penetrated his shoulder, it was agonising, but nowhere near as bad as burning alive had been. If anything, this was less painful than he’d been expecting and he lamented how weird his pain tolerance had gotten in the past few days. He wondered if his trauma nullification skill had anything to do with it.

  A few moments later the cold feeling went away and he opened his eyes to see Lilia’s beaming face in front of him. In bloodied, metal fingers she held a tiny bullet up for him to see. Despite the size of the initial 7.62mm round fired from an AK47, the head of the bullet with no shell attached was significantly smaller.

  It’s incredible that something so small can cause so much damage. That thought felt significant, but he didn’t have time to think deeper on it.

  For a moment John flashed back to his time in basic training as a National Guard, it had also shocked him then how such a small piece of metal could cause so much damage to a body. Humans were so weak and vulnerable and most of them never even realised it. Never realised how easily it could all end. It only takes a single second.

  “They’re on us, stay away from the windows!” The Captain shouted as Agnes and Truffle burst through the doorway almost trampling John.

  He patted Lilia on the head and motioned for her to go hide. She smiled up at him and ducked back under a table.

  There was still considerable pain in his shoulder, but now the bullet had been removed he could rely on the accelerated healing, which contestants had, and hopefully be back to dual wielding in no time.

  Agnes fired concentrated bursts of gatling gun rounds at the Russians as they continued to move towards the fast-food building. Utilising a fire and move tactic, they had split into four groups. Two groups would put down covering fire from a prone position whilst the other two dashed forwards. Then they’d alternate and repeat.

  It was definitely a military tactic, but it was much less refined than the kind John had been trained in. Were these guys even soldiers? It was hard to tell. They were dressed like them and they were efficient but he got the feeling that there was more to it.

  That doesn’t matter right now, he told himself as he ducked near the blown-out window which faced the attackers.

  John Doe: Draw them in, minimal fire, keep eyes on. When they’re close I’ll blast them with both barrels.

  Beverly_Jones: That’s my line, I’m the one with the shotgun!

  A.S.S Kicker: Alright, deary. Mamma’s little death sticks need to cooldown anyway.

  Beverly_Jones: You scare the shit out of me when we talk using the interface.

  Back in real time, John withdrew his second revolver. His shoulder wasn’t steady enough to get a good aim but he flicked the cylinder to dragon’s breath anyway just in case. He did the same with the weapon in his good hand.

  Outside was deathly silent. They could hear the sounds of explosions, screaming, gunfire and everything in between in the near distance. But there wasn’t a sound in the immediate vicinity

  John peaked through the furniture barricade and saw the Russian’s, if that’s who they really were, passing hand signals down the line. They were planning to stack up on either side of the door and force their way in guns blazing.

  I’d have surrounded the place and fired through the broken windows if it was me, John thought, convincing himself further that these guys were not real military. Stacking doors was a tried-and-true military tactic, but it seemed illogical given that they were hiding in a building with clear sightlines through windows which covered three of the four walls.

  He still had a burning desire to know why they were after him, but that would have to wait. It was possible he’d never find out, but he was going to try.

  Buck’s parting words rang through his skull: Jo Ren is going to make a move on you, watch your back. John had no idea how the dinosaur knew this but he trusted him. Jo Ren was the dude whose son John had humiliated during the tournament. He’d then been a little rude to the guy on live intergalactic television too, some people might even say that he declared war on the guy, but John thought that was a little dramatic. He was drunk at the time, surely they had to allow him a little leeway. Not that he wouldn’t blow the octo-fuck’s face off if he got the chance. Was this part of that? John didn’t know but he desperately wanted to find out.

  Hiding at the side of the front door, he waited patiently. He had positioned Agnes directly in front of it, but back a bit from John. That was probably the most dangerous position but she needed room for her guns and a clear line of sight. The Captain was at the other side of the door and Truffle was further back, guarding the children. He was the last line of defence for them if any of the Russians got past the vanguard.

  The door itself led directly into a small corridor, it was only a few feet long but John was hoping that it would act like a funnel, preventing his enemies from escaping. The door was made of opaque glass and was partially transparent, but the mid-section was covered by a thick, metal door handle which stretched the entire way across the panel. He’d hoped that they would be too stupid to realise and then John could shoot them through the door, but there were no silhouettes against the glass so they must have been smarter than he’d hoped. They were probably stacked up against the brick walls on either side.

  Taking a deep breath, John tried to clear his mind. They would be storming the place any second. He would be ready.

  CRASH!

  The Russian in the hat kicked open the door and charged through it, opening fire immediately as six of his friends joined behind him. John popped his hand around the corner and fired off a dragon’s breath which peppered the six men with burning, magnesium pellets which immediately took them out of commission.

  As John had planned, they had nowhere to go. That short corridor was a death gauntlet. Agnes opened fire, exploding their burning bodies into pink mist before they could fire off any pre-death shots. No real solider would have fallen for that and John was finally convinced that they weren’t really Russian military.

  Who the hell are they then?!

  Were they part of the militia he’d seen on the recap? If so, what was their beef with him. He’d never met them before today, nor had he met the caped crusader who had taken command of their operation. Surely they couldn’t be the same. Even if that was who Truffle thought they were. It just didn’t make any sense.

  If he’d counted them correctly when they were first teleported in, there should only have been one left. The last man. One vs four. He didn’t stand a chance against them. Perhaps John could capture him and interrogate the bastard. That would surely yield answers.

  “Come out into the open with your hands up and your weapon on the ground and we’ll let you live,” John called out from around the corner.

  “Why should I trust you?” A timid and vaguely Slavic voice shouted back.

  “What choice do you have?” John returned harshly. “We just killed all your friends, you’re all alone out there. I’m giving you a chance to live and it’s the only one you’ll get. Failure to comply will result in death.”

  “When did you start talking like those peeing people?” Truffle said, nuzzling the side of John’s leg. He looked at him with confusion. “You know, those alien guys running the show?”

  “The IPSC?”

  “Yeah those guys, the peeing people. You sounded a lot like them just now.”

  John’s heart hurt as his looked at the pig. He sighed, but he couldn’t change his tactics now. He had to survive; he had to make sure Truffle survived. He had to help those kids too. It suddenly hit him just how much responsibility he’d taken on recently.

  So much for going it alone.

  “What’s it gonna be pal?” The Captain shouted to the timid Slavic man.

  “I think I’ll take my chances,” he called back, sounding much less timid this time.

  The door swung inwards once again, this time with enough force to take the left side off its hinges, and the man stepped in.

  He was wearing a juggernaut suit and holding an AA-12 fully automatic shotgun. “I choose the red pill!” He screamed as he stepped over the body of his fallen comrades.

  “I don’t think that’s what that means,” Truffle shouted back. “Someone’s been playing too much Call Of Duty.”