The dappled light falls on their nest of bracken, melding their bodies with the earth and making them all but invisible to the naked eye. Birds whistle and chirp. Grasshoppers stridulate.
From the peak of the hill, P watches the northern road, whilst beside him T eats an apple under the cover of their net. P sees the world through the spherical lens of the scope, mounted to the powerful rifle which in turn rests on a fallen tree.
'Been a while,' says T between the crunch of his apple. 'Two days almost.' They've not moved that entire time. Just watched. It's getting uncomfortable.
P can make out all the details of the road. He's zeroed his sights so that when the car comes, his crosshairs will align perfectly with the passenger window and the bullet will drop into place. All this waiting and they'll only see the car for the thirty seconds it takes to cross their field of vision.
In the distance, the rumble of an engine.
'Here we go,' says T, tossing the apple core and picking up his binoculars. They wait and listen to the approaching engine.
It grows nearer and nearer. Peaks. Then begins to fade away. Both of them frown. Then they turn their heads just in time to see a car disappearing down the southern road behind them.
Paddy Dobson
12th February 2022