Left Behind

Everyone made it.

All are accounted for, Bishop, Daniels, Wilson, Davis..


Lt Marshall: Wait, Davis isn't here.

A hale of bullets fly over the heads of our wounded hero's as Lt. Marshall double check that the remaining members of his platoon are all accounted for. Upon discovering Staff Sgt. Davis's absence, gasoline sprays down Lt. Marshals face as the riddle of bullets scatters holes into the fuel silage of the rescue chopper.

Pilot: Shit!

[V.O.] I shouldn't have wasted my time, I knew we were all dead, there was no point in counting...

The nervous pilot of the chopper flips switches fanatically, while attempting to dismiss the growing perimeter of gorilla fighters that gather in the bushes around the clearing.

Pilot: We gotta get outta here!

Lt Marshall: Where is Davis? Huh? Where is FUCK is he?!

[V.O.] The only thing worst than a head count that costs a few min off your ass, is turning around and seeing that sorry excuse for a solder struggling to out run that enemy.

Wilson (in pain): Over there!

Through the tall brush, we see Davis white as a ghost run form the jungle, empty his clip on what seems to be little more than flashes of fire flies. He is hit with a barrage of bullets, sending his service weapon to the ground, fallowed by his war torn body.. before hitting the ground, his body moves as if he is making his own attempt at a spastic dance during a Congo breakdown at studio 54. Moments after hitting the floor, he manages to pull his swiss body from the dirt and struggle his way towards rescue..

Davis: Don't leave me, please don't leave me..

Smoke exits from a fresh hole in his chest far left from his heart..

Pilot: he's done, lets go!

Lt Marshall: No, Wait for my word...

Marshall jumps from the bird, and makes a dash in the direction a charred and limping Davis. He fires his pistol wildly, in the direction of the flies, and scoops Davis from his slouched position. The Chopper blades begin to pick up in speed, as weightlessness begins to occur..

Lt Marshall: Hang on, I wont let you die..

Swinging Davis's bloody arm around his shoulder, he keeps his head down as the two make their way back to the chopper hovering 3 feet from the ground..

Lt Marshall: WAIT FOR MY WORD!

Pilot: Fuck this, I'm leaving them! or we're all dead. we need to get...

A bullet shatters the windshield, lodging between the eyes of the pilot, and the Helicopter begins to spin out of control.

Lt Marshall: WAIT FOR ME!

As bombs blast and Lt. Marshall is hit with wild fire, The chopper takes a b-line left, and crashes into a fiery explosion in the woods. Jets fly over, and napalm the entire surrounding area.

Cut To Black.