((Frank Callahan continued from Welcome to the New Age ))
He had seen the girl wandering in from the north edge of the trees where he had been making his own way. She had brown skin. She might have been armed. Frank couldn't immediately tell.
But then again, what did the particulars matter? This one wasn't...the girl. This one was in the way, and he had his civic duty to attend to.
So he had crouched and shouldered the rifle, as he'd done before, as he'd seen in his weapons manual and in the old war movies he watched from time to time (war and football were a lot alike, and as such he enjoyed watching both in his downtime), and took aim.
The girl didn't seem to have much of a purpose, which was great for him. She wasn't moving fast.
Frank centered the barrel on her form and set his finger inside the trigger guard.
Just go down and stay down, if you know what's good for you.
He took a breath, and squeezed.
Mozambique Hammer
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((Dylan Walker continued from The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed))
It was probably going to get dark soon. But where could she go to sleep? Her old spot at the stream was in a danger zone, and had proven to be less than safe besides. Besides that, Dylan couldn't even remember which areas were danger zones and which areas weren't. She's been so focused on Maxim's killer that she hadn't paid enough attention to it. All she knew was that she was getting tired and needed to sleep soon.
She'd thought that lying down in a random spot in the pine stands might be good. The other choice she was considering was returning to the town. Sure, she'd be boxed in, but she had a gun now. She could shoot anyone who--
Something hit the tree she'd been standing a couple of feet from. A bullet. Wood splintered everywhere and, for a moment, she was thrown back into the moment where Maxim had taken a shot at her and taken her ear off. Her first instinct was to duck and cover her ears, before remembering that this time she had a gun. She fumbled for it while stumbling behind the tree, the best shelter she had at the moment.
She didn't think about who might be shooting at her, it could be anyone at this stage. She just knew the options were run and fight.
And she was tired of running, so fuck them.
She found her gun and, peering past the tree and aiming it in the general direction of where the shooter must be, though she couldn't see where he was, and pulled the trigger five times. Bullets flew out only on the first four times.
"Dammit!"
Don't shoot me, don't shoot me, don't shoot me! ...At least let me reload!
She was terrified. But she wouldn't run. Not if she could help it. That was the old, cowardly, gunless Dylan.
It was probably going to get dark soon. But where could she go to sleep? Her old spot at the stream was in a danger zone, and had proven to be less than safe besides. Besides that, Dylan couldn't even remember which areas were danger zones and which areas weren't. She's been so focused on Maxim's killer that she hadn't paid enough attention to it. All she knew was that she was getting tired and needed to sleep soon.
She'd thought that lying down in a random spot in the pine stands might be good. The other choice she was considering was returning to the town. Sure, she'd be boxed in, but she had a gun now. She could shoot anyone who--
Something hit the tree she'd been standing a couple of feet from. A bullet. Wood splintered everywhere and, for a moment, she was thrown back into the moment where Maxim had taken a shot at her and taken her ear off. Her first instinct was to duck and cover her ears, before remembering that this time she had a gun. She fumbled for it while stumbling behind the tree, the best shelter she had at the moment.
She didn't think about who might be shooting at her, it could be anyone at this stage. She just knew the options were run and fight.
And she was tired of running, so fuck them.
She found her gun and, peering past the tree and aiming it in the general direction of where the shooter must be, though she couldn't see where he was, and pulled the trigger five times. Bullets flew out only on the first four times.
"Dammit!"
Don't shoot me, don't shoot me, don't shoot me! ...At least let me reload!
She was terrified. But she wouldn't run. Not if she could help it. That was the old, cowardly, gunless Dylan.
Frank rammed the bolt on his rifle home. The spent casing was ejected, sliding off somewhere into the pine needles. He wasn't sure that he got her. He'd have to move around real slow, and...
Four taps, their noise heralding iron hornets. Two rounds splintered a tree to Frank's right, the third nipped the branches over head, and the fourth, Frank swore he could hear whizzing by his ear.
His heart rate jumped a few more beats per minute, and his throat went dry. As much as he had done, he still wasn't ready for someone to return fire. He was scared, and he was angry, all at once.
Frank rose to his haunches and stayed low as he stepped as silently as he could along the ground. He'd seen where the girl had gone, but there was no clear shot. Unless...
"Oh my God! I'm sorry!" He called out, trying his best to work real distress into his voice. Not that hard; he really was rattled from the girl's gunfire. "I thought you were one of them!"
That he didn't specify who "them" was hopefully gave him some leeway with his target.
Four taps, their noise heralding iron hornets. Two rounds splintered a tree to Frank's right, the third nipped the branches over head, and the fourth, Frank swore he could hear whizzing by his ear.
His heart rate jumped a few more beats per minute, and his throat went dry. As much as he had done, he still wasn't ready for someone to return fire. He was scared, and he was angry, all at once.
Frank rose to his haunches and stayed low as he stepped as silently as he could along the ground. He'd seen where the girl had gone, but there was no clear shot. Unless...
"Oh my God! I'm sorry!" He called out, trying his best to work real distress into his voice. Not that hard; he really was rattled from the girl's gunfire. "I thought you were one of them!"
That he didn't specify who "them" was hopefully gave him some leeway with his target.
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“Thought I was what?” Dylan yelled back as she fumbled through her bag for spare ammo, trying her best to keep the shaking out of her voice. In the meantime, she tried to place his voice. She was drawing a blank on it, she just knew it wasn't Callison, and if it wasn't Callison it didn't matter. But at least he was talking. Sounded distressed, too. Maybe that meant she could stall for enough time to reload.
“What'd you think I was? Someone who wouldn't shoot back?” She reloaded her gun as she shouted. “Well, you made a goddamn mistake, alright!” Sound tough. Sound like you're not almost shitting yourself in fear, that'll show him. “So either piss off or come out of the bushes with your hands up, unless you want to be the second jackass I put down today.”
Gun reloaded, she waited. To see if he was dumb enough to emerge. If he was, it would be natural selection at work.
If he wasn't...
Well, she'd see, wouldn't she.
“What'd you think I was? Someone who wouldn't shoot back?” She reloaded her gun as she shouted. “Well, you made a goddamn mistake, alright!” Sound tough. Sound like you're not almost shitting yourself in fear, that'll show him. “So either piss off or come out of the bushes with your hands up, unless you want to be the second jackass I put down today.”
Gun reloaded, she waited. To see if he was dumb enough to emerge. If he was, it would be natural selection at work.
If he wasn't...
Well, she'd see, wouldn't she.
He could hear her voice. That was good. She didn't seem too interested in talking. That was...alright. But what was better was that he was pinpointing her location.
Frank kept creeping, trying to get a clear view of her. Her voice had come from near a fallen pine and a cluster of standing ones. She had taken good cover, he'd given her that.
Still, his manual had told him his weapon could get some good penetration. Maybe he didn't need to see her.
He raised the rifle where he had heard the voice from and called out again.
"I thought you were one of those killers! The ones on the announcement? Please, I just need some help!"
Frank braced.
Frank kept creeping, trying to get a clear view of her. Her voice had come from near a fallen pine and a cluster of standing ones. She had taken good cover, he'd given her that.
Still, his manual had told him his weapon could get some good penetration. Maybe he didn't need to see her.
He raised the rifle where he had heard the voice from and called out again.
"I thought you were one of those killers! The ones on the announcement? Please, I just need some help!"
Frank braced.
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Dylan heard a bit of shuffling from the bushes behind her but didn't turn around to look. She wished she had a mirror or something on her. Then she could maybe check without exposing herself too badly, but unfortunately all she had in her pockets was a few scraps of charcoal.
"Yeah, you need help, do you? Because assholes who need help routinely go shooting at people. Some fucking call for help."
She reloaded her gun as this conversation was going on. Good thing he'd stopped to talk as well. Not only because it'd given her time to reload, but also time to recognise that voice. She'd heard it in class every now and then.
"Besides, I know you've killed people. Were you asking... who was it... Stella and that mexican guy for help, too?"
Frank was a patriot, she was sure of that. And given that he was still shooting at people, that meant he probably hadn't collapsed in on himself and changed his views under some stress, like Damien had. And he'd shot from a distance and was now playing the 'oh I'm scared' card. (And a double killer wouldn't be feeling that.) Had to be careful, it sounded like this guy was playing the game smart.
"So, Frankie. I got a gun. You got a gun. And I'm sure neither of us is handing ours over. I know I'm not. So how's this gonna go down?"
"Yeah, you need help, do you? Because assholes who need help routinely go shooting at people. Some fucking call for help."
She reloaded her gun as this conversation was going on. Good thing he'd stopped to talk as well. Not only because it'd given her time to reload, but also time to recognise that voice. She'd heard it in class every now and then.
"Besides, I know you've killed people. Were you asking... who was it... Stella and that mexican guy for help, too?"
Frank was a patriot, she was sure of that. And given that he was still shooting at people, that meant he probably hadn't collapsed in on himself and changed his views under some stress, like Damien had. And he'd shot from a distance and was now playing the 'oh I'm scared' card. (And a double killer wouldn't be feeling that.) Had to be careful, it sounded like this guy was playing the game smart.
"So, Frankie. I got a gun. You got a gun. And I'm sure neither of us is handing ours over. I know I'm not. So how's this gonna go down?"
Frank smirked. She hadn't gone for it. Well fucking good for her.
"Stella was a regrettable casualty of war." There was a definite tone of remorse. "Collateral damage in combat."
He squat-walked to the right some more. This girl hadn't peeked out. She was smarter than he gave her credit for.
"I suppose," he said in answer to her question. "I suppose you could be a forthright citizen and hold still."
Sounded reasonable.
"Stella was a regrettable casualty of war." There was a definite tone of remorse. "Collateral damage in combat."
He squat-walked to the right some more. This girl hadn't peeked out. She was smarter than he gave her credit for.
"I suppose," he said in answer to her question. "I suppose you could be a forthright citizen and hold still."
Sounded reasonable.
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Oh good. He'd dropped the acting shenanigans. Dylan heard a bit more shuffling. He was getting closer. She wished, again, for a mirror, and searched all her pockets futilely. Just charcoal. Still just charcoal.
Wait, no. She also had a blood-stained rock. Goodie goodie gumdrops. She removed the rock from her pocket.
"I'm sure I'd be a shame to America if I gave up that easily," she said back.
In one hand she held her gun. In the other hand, a rock. She looked at the rock for a moment. Not much of a weapon. Be better if she was holding a grenade. He could shoot from a distance, so it sounded like she might have a disadvantage if it came to a shootout. Especially since she was hardly much of a shot with it. She'd shot six bullets in her life, and the only one that'd hit was from point-blank range. The fact that he knew where she was and she didn't... also an issue.
To keep talking was the best solution until she came up with something better.
"Can't fault you for shooting people, y'know? At least you're not crying like a baby over the necessities. You seem smart." Dylan grinned as she added, "Wouldn't consider a team-up, would you? Counting our kill counts together, we'd have more than anyone else on the island. Lethal combination. Two guns are better than one."
She didn't really expect him to go for it. But it might make him pause.
Wait, no. She also had a blood-stained rock. Goodie goodie gumdrops. She removed the rock from her pocket.
"I'm sure I'd be a shame to America if I gave up that easily," she said back.
In one hand she held her gun. In the other hand, a rock. She looked at the rock for a moment. Not much of a weapon. Be better if she was holding a grenade. He could shoot from a distance, so it sounded like she might have a disadvantage if it came to a shootout. Especially since she was hardly much of a shot with it. She'd shot six bullets in her life, and the only one that'd hit was from point-blank range. The fact that he knew where she was and she didn't... also an issue.
To keep talking was the best solution until she came up with something better.
"Can't fault you for shooting people, y'know? At least you're not crying like a baby over the necessities. You seem smart." Dylan grinned as she added, "Wouldn't consider a team-up, would you? Counting our kill counts together, we'd have more than anyone else on the island. Lethal combination. Two guns are better than one."
She didn't really expect him to go for it. But it might make him pause.
Frank stopped. He wasn't going to get any better of a shot without exposing himself. He leaned against the nearest tree and rested his elbow on his knee to brace the gun.
Besides, what she was saying did catch his attention.
"I'm listening." He said. On the heels of that, "Keep in mind, if I don't like what you have to say, I'll consider you a statistic."
Besides, what she was saying did catch his attention.
"I'm listening." He said. On the heels of that, "Keep in mind, if I don't like what you have to say, I'll consider you a statistic."
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"Statistics, huh? Well, can't argue with your point. Just a brown mark on a white board, ain't no-one who remembers or cares about the niggers once they're dead." For once, she didn't bother to correct herself and insist she was tanned. No room for it. Dylan considered her words for a brief moment.
"Well, the way I see it... it's a lot better to have someone watching your back. Makes it easier to sleep and keep a lookout and everything. So that's just common sense. Anyway, I figure that you and I... well, we're both double killers by now. No-one worth their salt is gonna trust us, so we're out of other options when it comes to teams." Dylan's grip tightened on her gun, in case he abruptly decided he was bored listening to her. "We know neither of us is dead weight. After all, we're killers. We have the guts. As for the whole 'why should I, I don't even like you' thing..."
Dylan went quiet for a bit before laughing a little. "Well, that'll just make it easier in the end, won't it? Obviously an alliance won't last forever. But we stay on a truce until we're the only two left. Well, only three, I swore a truce with Little Miss Poet the first day, but she's a wimp anyway, she'll probably die before it matters."
She was pulling reasons out of her butt, but she had to admit her own bullshit didn't seem half-bad. It would make it easier to sleep. ...If she could trust him, anyway. But at the very least it'd give her a chance to run off if he let her get out from behind this tree.
"Well, the way I see it... it's a lot better to have someone watching your back. Makes it easier to sleep and keep a lookout and everything. So that's just common sense. Anyway, I figure that you and I... well, we're both double killers by now. No-one worth their salt is gonna trust us, so we're out of other options when it comes to teams." Dylan's grip tightened on her gun, in case he abruptly decided he was bored listening to her. "We know neither of us is dead weight. After all, we're killers. We have the guts. As for the whole 'why should I, I don't even like you' thing..."
Dylan went quiet for a bit before laughing a little. "Well, that'll just make it easier in the end, won't it? Obviously an alliance won't last forever. But we stay on a truce until we're the only two left. Well, only three, I swore a truce with Little Miss Poet the first day, but she's a wimp anyway, she'll probably die before it matters."
She was pulling reasons out of her butt, but she had to admit her own bullshit didn't seem half-bad. It would make it easier to sleep. ...If she could trust him, anyway. But at the very least it'd give her a chance to run off if he let her get out from behind this tree.
((Chris Brooks continued from Second Verse, Same As The First))
Chris hadn't actually seen anyone for a while, which was for the best, he wasn't in the mood for human interaction. It made sense as well there wasn't many of them left now. He was making slightly better time getting around the valley though he didn't have anyone else to worry about as selfish as that sounded. It was true though, everything had been fine when it was just him and Alex, as soon as anyone else got involved everything started to become that much more complicated. Being on his own was probably better for Chris in the long run now less chance of getting betrayed, less to worry about and he was able to actually think.
He wondered how Louisa was doing on her own, Chris felt slightly guilty for just letting her walk away but it would've been worse if they'd have forced her to stay with them against her will. Her decision to leave was still stupid though, no amount of guilt in the world was going to change his opinion on that, which struck him as conflicting.
The area of the Pine Stands he had wandered into seemed mostly deserted. That was what he thought until he heard the gunshot at least. It was quickly followed by four more gunshots, they sounded close by too. Chris sped up to a jog, he knew something was going down, and it was dangerous since people were shooting at each other. Despite his fear of getting shot earlier in the Program he didn't quite seem to have that same sense of self-preservation; maybe he'd just stopped caring, it didn't matter either way.
There had been no other gunshots so either someone had been shot, one of them had run or they had come to a truce. That or they were both waiting for the other to make the next move. That last one sounded like the most dangerous for Chris; if he surprised one of them he'd mostly likely get shot. That wasn't the best outcome.
He slowed down as he started to hear voices and became much more careful with his movements, trying to stay quiet. As he got closer the voices became clearer as did Chris's understanding of the situation he was in.
Frank Callahan and Dylan Walker had been shooting at each other and were now discussing a truce. It didn't seem too bad until you realised they had both killed people and both had guns. It made the situation that much more dangerous.
"Shit." Chris breathed and quickly moved behind a tree. All attempts at being quiet forgotten. He quickly crouched down and removed the e-tool from his bag. He thought about taking the meat hook out as well but thought better of it. He peeked out to try and spot either of them, no such luck. He was flying blind in the middle of what could turn into another shoot out.
Chris hadn't actually seen anyone for a while, which was for the best, he wasn't in the mood for human interaction. It made sense as well there wasn't many of them left now. He was making slightly better time getting around the valley though he didn't have anyone else to worry about as selfish as that sounded. It was true though, everything had been fine when it was just him and Alex, as soon as anyone else got involved everything started to become that much more complicated. Being on his own was probably better for Chris in the long run now less chance of getting betrayed, less to worry about and he was able to actually think.
He wondered how Louisa was doing on her own, Chris felt slightly guilty for just letting her walk away but it would've been worse if they'd have forced her to stay with them against her will. Her decision to leave was still stupid though, no amount of guilt in the world was going to change his opinion on that, which struck him as conflicting.
The area of the Pine Stands he had wandered into seemed mostly deserted. That was what he thought until he heard the gunshot at least. It was quickly followed by four more gunshots, they sounded close by too. Chris sped up to a jog, he knew something was going down, and it was dangerous since people were shooting at each other. Despite his fear of getting shot earlier in the Program he didn't quite seem to have that same sense of self-preservation; maybe he'd just stopped caring, it didn't matter either way.
There had been no other gunshots so either someone had been shot, one of them had run or they had come to a truce. That or they were both waiting for the other to make the next move. That last one sounded like the most dangerous for Chris; if he surprised one of them he'd mostly likely get shot. That wasn't the best outcome.
He slowed down as he started to hear voices and became much more careful with his movements, trying to stay quiet. As he got closer the voices became clearer as did Chris's understanding of the situation he was in.
Frank Callahan and Dylan Walker had been shooting at each other and were now discussing a truce. It didn't seem too bad until you realised they had both killed people and both had guns. It made the situation that much more dangerous.
"Shit." Chris breathed and quickly moved behind a tree. All attempts at being quiet forgotten. He quickly crouched down and removed the e-tool from his bag. He thought about taking the meat hook out as well but thought better of it. He peeked out to try and spot either of them, no such luck. He was flying blind in the middle of what could turn into another shoot out.
The girl was a talker, that much was certain. And even though Frank had told himself that words was not something that would weigh in his decisions anymore, what she was saying made a bit too much sense to ignore.
Two heads were better than one, two guns better than one, scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. He didn't know long he could keep going on together.
Besides, if it came to the matter of...the one, then he could make sure to keep a close eye on girl before she could interlope.
There was a rustling off to the side, and Frank looked. He didn't see anything of consequence, so he went back to the conversation.
"I'm interested. How do I know you won't just put one in me when I'm not looking? How do you know I won't do the same to you?"
Frank coughed.
"Trust is important these days."
Two heads were better than one, two guns better than one, scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. He didn't know long he could keep going on together.
Besides, if it came to the matter of...the one, then he could make sure to keep a close eye on girl before she could interlope.
There was a rustling off to the side, and Frank looked. He didn't see anything of consequence, so he went back to the conversation.
"I'm interested. How do I know you won't just put one in me when I'm not looking? How do you know I won't do the same to you?"
Frank coughed.
"Trust is important these days."
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Dylan glanced at the bushes when she heard a rustling noise, but didn't see anything either. Still, she didn't get this far dismissing things, so she kept an eye on it as she talked.
"I don't."
Dylan shifted slightly, turning her head to see if she could see Frank. She couldn't, still, but that probably meant he wasn't in shooting range of her, either.
"Of course I can't know that. But I can't know that someone won't gun me down when I'm sleeping, anyway. The benefits of trusting you not to put a bullet in me outweigh the risks, and it'll just leave you without an ally if you gun me down before it's time. As for you trusting me..."
Dylan shrugged, even though he couldn't see it.
"I can't give anything but my word. But I swear on my patriotism and America...ness... that, as long as you promise the same, I won't shoot you until we've decided to break off the truce. Trust me, I don't take that lightly. My grandmother would be ashamed if I broke my word now.
"So... what do you say?"
"I don't."
Dylan shifted slightly, turning her head to see if she could see Frank. She couldn't, still, but that probably meant he wasn't in shooting range of her, either.
"Of course I can't know that. But I can't know that someone won't gun me down when I'm sleeping, anyway. The benefits of trusting you not to put a bullet in me outweigh the risks, and it'll just leave you without an ally if you gun me down before it's time. As for you trusting me..."
Dylan shrugged, even though he couldn't see it.
"I can't give anything but my word. But I swear on my patriotism and America...ness... that, as long as you promise the same, I won't shoot you until we've decided to break off the truce. Trust me, I don't take that lightly. My grandmother would be ashamed if I broke my word now.
"So... what do you say?"
Luckily for Chris neither one of them seemed to noticed the noise he made as he moved behind the tree. Frank was talking about trust, so it looked like they were seriously considering the truce, which meant he was in a bad situation if they realised he was listening in. After all they both had guns, whereas he just had an entrenching tool and a meat hook. The gun Alex had taken from Maxim had tumbled down the slope after him and Chris hadn't bothered to go looking for it. It would've been difficult in the dark and the thing would have probably broken during the fall anyway.
Even still he was the only one without a gun. It was a big disadvantage to him; he started to weigh his options up. The safest thing would be just to make his way back the way he came but if he did that he risked one of them seeing him. He had been lucky the first time and he didn't want to push that luck too far. He'd need some for later.
The other option was stay put and hope they moved one; it was safer but also carried the risk of them finding him when they went to leave. He also doubted that he could take one of them out of action without the other noticing, they were in the middle of a conversation after all. If it did come to it though he felt comfortable in his ability to overpower Dylan. Frank however would be more difficult, the guy was on the football team, he was also taller and more muscular than Chris was.
So yeah if a fight did break out Dylan was the one he wanted to go up against, not because he didn't think he could beat Frank, because Chris still felt he could but he knew Dylan would be easier and he'd be less likely to get injured. A fight between him and Frank would be much more dangerous.
Chris carefully peeked his head out from the tree he was hiding behind, trying to spot either Frank or Dylan. He couldn't see Frank at all and the same went for Dylan. He thought he saw something but he couldn't be sure. So he discounted it until he got a better look and the only way that was going to happen was if he moved to a different tree. Instead he poked his head around the other side of the tree, but he got the same result.
Dylan was responding to Frank, saying why she wouldn't break the truce and offering Frank the choice. Chris was running out of time to make his decision.
"Aww what the hell." Chris muttered as he pulled his hood up. If he didn't move he'd never get a good understanding of where the other two were, which would just be more dangerous. He carefully picked up his pack and settled into a low crouch.
Part of him was screaming about rethinking the decision, that he was stressed out and wasn't thinking properly. It was probably right too. But Chris started moving anyway.
He kept himself low as he quickly crouch-walked to a tree diagonally in front of the one he had originally been hiding behind.
Now all he had to do was hope they hadn't seen him.
Even still he was the only one without a gun. It was a big disadvantage to him; he started to weigh his options up. The safest thing would be just to make his way back the way he came but if he did that he risked one of them seeing him. He had been lucky the first time and he didn't want to push that luck too far. He'd need some for later.
The other option was stay put and hope they moved one; it was safer but also carried the risk of them finding him when they went to leave. He also doubted that he could take one of them out of action without the other noticing, they were in the middle of a conversation after all. If it did come to it though he felt comfortable in his ability to overpower Dylan. Frank however would be more difficult, the guy was on the football team, he was also taller and more muscular than Chris was.
So yeah if a fight did break out Dylan was the one he wanted to go up against, not because he didn't think he could beat Frank, because Chris still felt he could but he knew Dylan would be easier and he'd be less likely to get injured. A fight between him and Frank would be much more dangerous.
Chris carefully peeked his head out from the tree he was hiding behind, trying to spot either Frank or Dylan. He couldn't see Frank at all and the same went for Dylan. He thought he saw something but he couldn't be sure. So he discounted it until he got a better look and the only way that was going to happen was if he moved to a different tree. Instead he poked his head around the other side of the tree, but he got the same result.
Dylan was responding to Frank, saying why she wouldn't break the truce and offering Frank the choice. Chris was running out of time to make his decision.
"Aww what the hell." Chris muttered as he pulled his hood up. If he didn't move he'd never get a good understanding of where the other two were, which would just be more dangerous. He carefully picked up his pack and settled into a low crouch.
Part of him was screaming about rethinking the decision, that he was stressed out and wasn't thinking properly. It was probably right too. But Chris started moving anyway.
He kept himself low as he quickly crouch-walked to a tree diagonally in front of the one he had originally been hiding behind.
Now all he had to do was hope they hadn't seen him.
Frank didn't speak for awhile. The gun never wavered.
Then he spoke.
"You've got yourself a goddamn deal." He was about to say something about shaking on it when he saw someone moving out of the corner of his eye. That rustling was something after all.
Without thinking, and barely aiming, Frank snapped the rifle to his right and fired. He almost lost his footing, not being ready for the kick of the gun. The rifle roared, and he jacked the bolt back.
Who the fuck?
Then he spoke.
"You've got yourself a goddamn deal." He was about to say something about shaking on it when he saw someone moving out of the corner of his eye. That rustling was something after all.
Without thinking, and barely aiming, Frank snapped the rifle to his right and fired. He almost lost his footing, not being ready for the kick of the gun. The rifle roared, and he jacked the bolt back.
Who the fuck?