Death Fire 21


I am not sure why I  showed up three days later with my sleeping bag, clothes, and sturdy boots. I  also had the only thing my foster dad had ever given me. A Smith and Wesson  .38 with extra boxes of shells. The 4:10 shot gun was a present to myself after I graduated from college and had my masters. I  entered  West Virginia University  School of Medicine on a full scholarship the next semester. My grade point average had never dropped below a 4.0. The shotgun and a shooting range had made sure that happened. I took to target practice every time I  got fraustrated.
I  rode up on old Dan a horse I boarded  at Harold Grimes house.  Something had told me Josh was going to take off with out me. He was saddling his big roan by the  name of Hellion when I  showed up.
He  watched me come down the hill in my cowboy hat and boots. He didn’t recognize me. He moved to get his gun as I dismounted. Until Jeb bounced out and tried to knock me down by putting his paws on my shoulders and trying to lick my face.
Only then did Josh realize that I  was under the hat. I could tell he was irate at the idea of me having figured out that he was going with out me.
“I hope you will be ready to go in less than an hour. I can repack my stuff to be on the trail by then I forgot to put some jerky in my saddle bag where I  can reach it.”
“Did you bring water?” He huffed at me.
“Two canteens and two extra water bottles just in case. I am not willing to give up my youthful appearance by not being hydrated. I also have dehydrated fruit and cheese and crackers packed in between my shells.”
“You would never be willing to let me do this alone would you?”
I reached out taking my binoculars  to my eyes. “Since I don’t see any pigs flying. I  am sure that means not a chance in…. well you get the picture. Now hurry up and let’s go. I  am intending to be at the opening by dark.”

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