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ANGIER -- The noise drifting across the sandy farm fields sounds like corn popping deep in a kettle. Single pops quickly join others, forming a rattling pop-pop-pop-pop-pop that echoes through the surrounding woods.

Nearby, masked and helmeted people of all shapes and sizes gather, dressed in uniforms looking like deer hunter meets "Star Wars" storm trooper. Splats of fluor escent orange and green cover their clothing in psychedelic patterns. They appear to be armed with a cross between sci-fi laser guns and the latest in automatic weaponry.

The bellow of "Last call -- Fort Game!" prompts many to shuffle toward a high fence of fine mesh. Helmets are pulled down, barrels unsleeved, safeties clicked off.

Just about every weekend, paintball games are going on at Black River Paintball between the Harnett County towns of Angier and Coats. Organized teams, families, corporate work groups, even church groups show up, some wearing fancy uniforms and carrying a thousand dollars' worth of gear. Others spend $25 for rental equipment and wear jeans and a sweatshirt.

People of all backgrounds -- white collar, blue collar, no collar -- gather to play. Men, women, boys and girls come to do battle. There is something initially unsettling but satisfying about a 4-foot-tall girl, ponytail bobbing from her protective mask, darting across a field and laying down a world of rapid-fire paintball hurt on a guy four times her age and size.

Some weekends, hundreds will take to the fields and woods, in elaborate multi-mission scenarios that run for hours. These people take their paintball seriously, spending big money on guns, called "markers." Using compressed air, markers spit out 15 paintballs a second at about 126 mph. Some will drop $70 on a box of 2,000 paintballs, gelatin balls filled with bright paint.

That can translate to bruises and welts on any unprotected part of the body. The little balls can hurt, especially when they don't break. A thwack sound means pain, while a splat just means you're hit and you're out until next game.

Welts, some the size of a quarter, are shown off proudly, and each "wound" carries a story that will never told the same way twice.

A shorts-clad teenage girl from Apex has leopard legs, dotted with welts and orange splats of pain and paint. A teenage boy works up the courage to ask why she plays in shorts.

"Long pants are too hot," she says.

"It hurts," he counters.

"Not if you take it like a woman," she says, strapping on her mask and walking away laughing.

The staff at Black River are sticklers, bordering on fanatics, about safety. Special face and head protection are required, as are barrel covers when outside the field of combat. Ignore the rules and you don't play.

The fort game is set to begin in "Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

Players sprint from opposite sides of a field covered with upturned cars, bunkers, trenches and a plywood fort. The sound of battle rises along with shouted commands.

"They're moving on the flank!"

Pop-pop-pop-pop. Splat.

"Ouch!"