Jacobs kept firing. Even through the thick gloves, the gun was burning their hands. Gripping the gun tighter didn’t change that. Mingled sounds of retreat came over the comms. They tightened their jaw. This was it; they were going to die.

“Come on El!” their companion said, shouting over her shoulder golden hair hidden by the helmet. “We gotta go.”

“We aren’t going anywhere.” Jacobs said, firing another beam at the monsters. “No one is.” The beam didn’t hit. Towering mechanical spiders surrounded them and Jacobs could see more on the horizon.

“Please, El, we’ve got to go. I won’t leave you behind,” Carter said, backing up towards the ship, The Goldbug.

Aiming for the leg, Jacobs fired again, “I’m not dying with my back turned.” They yelled back. The beam hit but it did nothing, the spider wasn’t deterred in the slightest. They weren’t going to be a coward—not this time.

“We’ve got to try surviving at least.”

Aiming, Jacobs snorted, “And what’s that going to do for us? We aren’t surviving this, Carter. The Goldbug ain’t going to be taking off anytime soon. We’re dead.” They fired.

“We’ve been ordered to retreat!”

“And when have you ever followed orders?” Jacobs’ hits were landing but they weren’t even leaving scorch marks. Firing beams should be able to burn through anything. Maybe they needed to get closer.

“Since we were about to—”

Jacobs didn’t hear the rest as they bolted into the field, firing all the while. Ignoring the screaming over the comms. Getting closer was the only hunch they had to possibly do any damage. Surely the beams would be able to do some damage. At least melt the spiders’ armor or something.

Pain filled Jacob’s chest and their hands were shaking. They wouldn’t be able to aim for much longer. Stopping to breathe for a moment led to only shaking breaths escaping. At least something got to escape. Jacobs glanced upwards to see the battlefield and was awarded with only horror.

A red light built up in the spider’s mouth. Jacobs had never seen this before, they doubted that any military division had ever seen this before. It looked like a red firing beam. The division’s firing beams were nearly invisible, blending into the light of the spiders’ attack. It had to be an attack.

Hand to ear, Jacobs shouted into the comm. “Scatter!” Everyone was going to die. “Scatter. Hurry. Get out of the way!” Jacobs could see the white and blue uniforms breaking away from the unit, but they were all slow.

Too slow.

Jacobs saw their deaths before it ever happened. Bright red energy cut the stormy sky in half. Stretching from spider to squad, the beam left only a massive crater. Jacobs couldn’t even die with their brothers-in-arms. They didn’t mean to run away. Filtered air pushed its way down Jacobs’ choking throat.

They had to keep running. They would keep running, if only for the hatred pounding in their stomach. Blood was rushing to their head, and they couldn’t think. They wouldn’t think. Not about Earth, not about home. Not about Carter’s pranks. They wouldn’t think about the way they would climb on the roof back home and watch the sun rise over the mountains. No, they wouldn’t think about any of that. They would only run and aim and fire. And, finally, they would die. Jacobs knew this. It was their choice. Their last choice.