Can they win and live to fight another day?
An Evil Attack
I pushed up the hill. Breath came in pants. I had to report back soon. I looked over and saw what I had feared. Large groups, just milling about.
"We'll never get beyond that bunch, George." I whispered to the guy beside me.
"Oh, stop. Let's think about this for a second." He was also panting. We weren't used to this climb. "I got the solution. It just has to come to me."
George always said that. Always. It usually worked out. But when there was this much on the line. I mean, the safety of our group back a mile or so. Could we wait?
"C'mon, buddy! We don't have a lot of time here. We'll be spotted any moment now. We're outnumbered about a bazillion to one. A solution please!" I crawled up to spy again at the crowd over the hill. They were still there, just below the rise. A big mass, far outnumbering our little band of survivors.
George was still catching his breath, his head in his hands. Suddenly he smiled and looked my way. "Got it!" He took a quick glance over the top of the hill. "Just as I thought. We can take'em. Easy peasy." He confidently stomped back the way we'd just come.
"That's it? Easy peasy?" He was a real piece of work. "We pay you too much for that kind of nonsense. Where's the plan? The strategy?" I followed the man. I was hopping mad and ready to pick a fight.
"Do you want to fight? Or do you want to win?" George stood before me, his arms crossed.
"One word! Raid." And with that he walked to the rest of our people.
I stood with my mouth open as the warring party surged over the hill.