Hergest Ridge

The cold water was knee high. The rocky bottom of the river was an ankle twister, each step shooting pain up his frozen legs, all the way to the chest. Leaning against one of the pillars of the stone bridge, the MP40 tight to his body, he listened.

The MMP40 wasn’t his. He grabbed it from the body of a soldier killed by the last of the bullets in his gun, just before getting stuck under the bridge. Under different circumstances the bridge would be considered quaint and maybe even romantic, but right now it was like a shrinking cage.

He was safe against sniper fire likely to come from the surrounding buildings on both sides of the shallow river, but the cold water and the Nazi soldier above could cripple and kill him just the same. All it would take is one well placed potato masher. If he managed to keep the shrapnel out of his teeth, he’d do so at the cost of opening himself up to a rain of bullets from above.

At times like this, decisions are made with instinct. All the training in the world means nothing. Before even considering it, Jack was half way towards the bridge pillar on the northern river side. All he needed to do was throw up a ‘nade over the 10 foot wall on the shore to get decent cover from the north. He could then run down the river towards the stair case going up, all while facing the bridge and using his machine gun for cover.

Grenade in hand, finger on the pin, he stopped. Something felt wrong. It was an instinct that saved his life before, and he was ready for it to get him out of this mess too.

Without pulling the pin, he dropped the grenade and clutched the MP40 with both hands. He glanced upstream towards the eastern side of the bridge, just in time to see the feet of his enemy coming down. The body followed.

Having seen countless people get killed, Jack knew that a dead man comes down head first. Always. The Nazi soldier was determined to make the kill, but without a grenade his strategy was to surprise by coming down out of nowhere.

With the gun clutched in both hands, finger now on the trigger, Jack fired off a third of his clip. His opponent made a hard landing, dead before completing the drop.

The message on the screen read “Nice”.
The level clock reached zero, and the next level began to load.
“Oh, yeah. Bring it on.”