Mike Dixon

David hadn‟t heard him move. Barry must be good at
what he was doing. He‟d picked his way through the scrub,
swiftly and silently.
„Smile … darling boy!‟
The voice came from further down the slope.
„I can see you, darling boy!‟
David decided he‟d have to move or become a sitting
target. Night was coming on fast and it would soon be dark.
He hurled a rock in one direction and dashed in the other.
Fire pinned him down.
„I can still see you, darling boy!‟
David remembered what Tim had said about close combat.
Lie low or keep moving. Don‟t do anything in between
– or you‟re dead meat. He squirmed along on his belly,
reached a fallen tree and saw Barry. A quick shot seemed
in order. He missed and Barry returned fire.
„I‟ve got you, darling boy! You might as well come out
now and get it over with. I‟ll give you a nice clean shot
through the head if you do. Otherwise, I‟ll make sure you
take a long time to die.‟
David flattened himself against the ground. The sun was
slipping below the horizon. In a few minutes it would be
pitch dark. Barry would be able to see him with his scope
but he wouldn‟t be able to see Barry.
A shot rang out.
It echoed back and forth and didn‟t sound like it had
come from Barry‟s gun – it had a heavier report. For a moment
his mind went blank. Then he remembered what Tim
had said. When in doubt, stick to the basic rules. That
meant he had to keep moving. He squirmed forward and
was preparing for his next move when a voice caused every
muscle in his body to freeze.
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