A Step Off the Path

As we dream . . .

Chapter 1: the sharpshooter

"It's coming," my companion informed me while trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

I didn't reply, remaining very still as I waited for him to count off each marker point of the truck's progress towards us.

"Passing A."

I didn't need to check my weapon, I'd done that thoroughly already. A high-powered rifle loaded with two armour-piercing explosive cartridges. One should do it, and I certainly wouldn't get a chance to fire more than two.

"Passing B."

I was a sharpshooter, probably one of the best female shooters in the world. Mostly I shot people (baddies) but sometimes other things like armoured trucks full of explosives. This truck was being driven by a suicide bomber intent on killing a man in a building to our right.

My team was tasked with saving that man; not because he was a good man - he was in fact a violent militia leader - but he was involved in truce talks, so we would try to keep him alive.

"Passing C, speeding up."

I was very calm. I'd been a bit nervous before and I would be later, but not now.

The guards began ineffectively blazing away with their automatic weapons even before the truck burst through the gates. As it started charging across the courtyard towards the target building, I squeezed the trigger.

A tremendous explosion, a lot of collateral damage, but the life of one undeserving militia leader saved.

I rapidly dismantled the rifle - my companion packed the parts into his backpack. We ran across the roof and down the external stairs. Then holding hands we fled from the scene: just a couple of backpackers fleeing the violence like everybody else.

Back at our hostel, my companion put his arm around me. He was a fairly big man and not unattractive, and he'd been trying (vainly) to get into my pants ever since this mission began a week ago.

I gave him brief kiss and then pushed him away.

"Jaydon Rice."

The sound of his name jarred Jaydon out of his reverie and ended the fantasy.

"Rejoin the class, please."

"Sorry, Miss."

He refocused on the chalkboard amidst the usual giggles and twitters from the other year twelve students that erupted whenever Jaydon was caught daydreaming again.

Chapter 2: Henriette

"Was it a good dream?" Henrietta asked shyly as they left the classroom.

Henrietta was a bit of an oddball. She was a tallish girl, probably a bit too slim, though not badly shaped and she had a reasonably attractive face. Nevertheless, Jaydon couldn't remember her ever having a boyfriend.

The other girls thought that she was just a little too prim and proper, not cool. The boys went even further, regarding her as something of a silly prude who seemed to think that kissing could make you pregnant.

Jaydon himself thought that she was quite nice and he was always pleasant to her, but he could never quite shake the slight feeling of embarrassment he got at having any sort of special association with the 'oddball girl'.

"Fine," he laughed, answering her question lightheartedly, but dismissively.

"Oh, good," she smiled. She did have a nice smile.