A cannon blast interrupted Ellis’s musings. He looked up to see a huge cloud of burnt cordite and Tim on the ground. A goddamned CZ 550 stopper rifle, chambered for a f*****g .585 Gehringer wildcat cartridge was upended, off its tripod legs, and on the floor of Tim’s lane.
“Damn it, Akkard. You get to patch up the concrete bunker!” Miss Maggie screeched, but she was drowned out by laughter. Tim rubbed his shoulder with a grimace and gave Miss Maggie a sheepish grin.
Everyone else had stopped firing and had started gathering up their stuff, so Ellis took the opportunity to stand and adjust his hard-on after his little trip down memory lane. Later that night Ellis had been woken by slow caresses. While Ellis moaned, Clark had lain on Ellis’s back, clutching his shoulders, and had taken him
