He grabs the upper rope and takes a tentative step forward letting the lower rope dip with our weight before he starts stepping one foot in front of the other. As soon as we reach the first upright pole and he has to let go, I hear a click echo around us. I look below and see each of the trainers aiming what looks like guns at us. What the hell?

“Wyatt, we’ve got trouble. I think they are going to try and shoot at us, move your ass!”

“Where are they?”

“One at twelve o’clock, two at three o’clock, one at six o’clock and three at nine o’clock, but I don’t know if they would aim at us or the other team. Would they really shoot us?”

they turn the guns up to full velocity. Yes they will

pair behind us and then to the pair in front of

feet to go. I feel the first splat of paint hit my arm and Wyatt wasn’t wrong, this sh*t stings. I take a few more to each arm and then I hear the consistent splats and can feel the paint splash over Wyatt’s shoulder

can’t see!”

to let go so they started going for Wyatt’s

I’m going to adjust.”

doing? Don’t let go,

arm, moving my legs as little as possible, but reaching both arms underneath and grabbing his biceps and using them to pull myself to his front. I

good, but you are getting pummeled, move

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