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October 27, 2006

From The Comments: Keiran Halcyon

Breathing hard, Jansen dashed across the last expanse of open ground as the staccato of small-arms fire rang around him. A sharp whistle crescendoed to a window-rattling roar as a bloom of flame grew ahead of him. He cut to the right and dove under the barbed wire, gasping as a flechette tore into his leg.

Limping now, Jansen hobbled into the blockhouse and dropped his precious cargo. "Sarge, I got the Count Chocula."

Sarge's reply turned the air blue and took the wind out of Jansen's sails. Wearily, he turned around and headed back to get the forgotten milk.

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