We Are Not On Earth“Not if I can help it.”
Soledad tears the cloth-covered sniper rifle from Tyrus' back. “If I kill that f**k Geirmund, I bet the rest will drop dead.”
Remove the head, kill the body. Not a terrible idea.
“Give me that, soldier.” Tyrus grabs the rifle from Soledad. “I'll do it.”
The cover falls from the weapon. It's a Lensfield SR1. My favourite rifle.
It is my rifle. I recognise the markings.
So, that's where it ended up.
“Hey, that's mine.” I lay a hand on the rifle.
Tyrus stares at me. “Well.”
It's an almost respectful well. “Finders keepers.”
“I intended to come back for it.”
“Right.”
“Guys.” It's Jagr. I ignore her.
“My rifle. I'll do it. You will miss, Tyrus, and then we're fucked.”
“I am the best marksman on Earth.”
“Maybe so, but for your information
