ABANDON
A rifle shot split the sky as Chris Olden moved into the shade of the verandah. It was distant, and she barely noted it, concentrating on hauling open the front door.
She called out ‘Hiya’ in a general greeting and took a stool at the bar. ‘Pot of Carlton. Ta, Dougie.’
The barman surveyed her as he pulled the beer. ‘Hard day?’
‘You could say that.’ She paid, then raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’
He nodded, flashed her a smile missing an eyetooth, and went off to rearrange the fridge.
Chris swallowed a mouthful and waited, hoping for a miracle burst of energy. She lost herself for a while, watching a pool game between two regulars.
She’d gone through school with these guys before their paths forked – uni for her, and stage one of succession plans for their family farms for them. T
