“Hey, I don’t know how to use this. Who wants it?” I cried out.
“God-dammit Chuck! Here, give me the damned thing,” Dustin shouted again. I started to get up but he stopped me. “Hey fucktard, somebody’s shooting at us. Don’t stand up. Crawl over here.”
Of course, it made perfect sense to crawl instead of walk. People were shooting at us. Why the hell would you try to walk you idiot! I chided myself as I crawled towards Dustin.
“Come on, come on,” he said impatiently as I slowly made my way towards him. I finally reached him and slid the rifle to him. He snatched it from my hands and expertly took the scope’s lens covers off, chambered a round and pushed the safety switch to off all in what looked like one motion to me.
“Come on, where are you?” he kept asking himself as he peered through the scope.
“Do you have a visual on the shooters?” Jesse asked from a few feet away in the ditch.
“Not yet. I’m scanning…Wait, got you fucker!” Dustin said as he gently squeezed the trigger and the weapon bucked against his shoulder. He kept looking through the scope for another moment, then laid the rifle down and said, “One guy dead. Headshot. I’ve got to reposition before I take another shot and they figure out where I am.”
“Ok. Chuck, move with Dustin, give him whatever help he needs,” Jesse said to me as the incoming fire from the town decreased and our return fire increased.
We crawled a hundred or so yards down the ditch before Dustin said we’d moved far enough. “Probably a bunch of those Crimson fuckers,” he said as he looked through the rifle’s scope for another target.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly.
“Oh yeah, you’re from up north. The Jacksonville Crimsons were our biggest rivals back in the day. I was a Bulldog, Virden’s football team. Jesse and I hated those fuckers…there you are.” He squeezed the trigger and the rifle bucked again. “Count another Jacksonville fuck down.”
“What? I thought Jesse said these were scavengers.”
“Sure, they’re scavengers who are here in Jacksonville,” he replied. “Let’s move again.” As we scooted along the ground, something didn’t seem right.
We reached our third destination and he fired another round at some far away, but still unseen shooter. He whistled softly to himself and said, “That must hurt. I shot a little high and scalped that dude. Saw the top of his head roll back. Might have to take care of him when we roll into town. Let’s move.”
/// You’ll have to wait until I complete my new novel to finish reading this section!! Est. Aug 2014 ////