20
Back in his camp, underneath the huge rock overhang which formed a solid roof over a cavernous space; his home for the last two years, Cunningham re-loaded the Barrett magazine, replacing the rounds he expended on the cave, Rochello, and the two most recent arrivals.
When he was finished, he wiped the weapon down with a soft, lightly oiled rag he kept for just that purpose, and rested it gently, butt down, against the camp chair he sat in, quietly anticipating the killing yet to come before this day was over.
He took a long swig of water from a plastic bottle he kept filled from his bulk supplies, and swallowed greedily. He would have much preferred a drink of Bundaberg Rum, of which he also had ample supply, but he needed to stay clear headed, and focused, on the job at hand.
Event
