sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

Chapter 12

ZINGA OBSERVED the target board with a pair of binoculars, Reeves had advanced from a tyro; he was getting better with more accurate hits compared with the inert results back in the Mojave Desert to be the best of the other shooters—but yet he failed to make it in the slate as the first choice hit-man in the New Orleans mission. One of Zinga's men, Kujo was also vied in practising his crossbow; he was hitting sharply on target too.

Reeves's rifle was fitted with a silencer—dotting the target on the board, his mind was in the zone, visualizing that each tautological shot that he took was aiming for the head of every each of the Jamaicans present at the lake. He has to improve his target accuracy as a safety precaution—to any case of them turning hostile on him and his team.

Reeves Jensen sensed the thankless Li Chi had set these hired killers on him despite he had saved the triad member Wu Leong from being massacred on the rooftop chopper attacks in Tombscradle—Oswald-Wu Leong was then voted by the Council of 13 to take out the president; where the mission failed.

He overheard Zinga calling out. "Jensen, enough—conserve your ammo!"

Nearby, True Bob was under the regular shady tree spot, he saw Zinga and Kujo stepping into back to their cabin—to bong some nuggs and get their afternoon highs. Reeves was wrapping up his rifle gear, he heard Bob's bird whistle—and looked up at the half-Cherokee nodding at him ...

The both of them militate in secret by sneaking out of the guarded camp without security permission. They left to explore the surrounding at the lake.

**

Reeves and Two Bob ran uphill among trees and bushes—they leapt over fallen tree trunks and scaled the boulder terrains in the forest edge near the lake. They wanted to go further deep into the woods where a few days ago, while Bob was gathering medicinal herbs, he spotted several hoof tracks of a game at the rivulet—it has been awhile they all had real sumptuous red meat other than their regular diet of wild birds, rabbits and the fishes from the lake...

They both lie on their bellies and waited patiently behind some bushes that faced a creek; Reeves whispered to him, "Bob, you sure it will come?" swatting at swarming flying bugs. True Bob grinned back, "Who knows, maybe it would—but once we bag it, I have got a perfect recipe for it," the optimistic Bob replied encouragingly while smacking his lips.

Minutes later, they heard branches breaking up ahead across the other side of the stream and a cow moose walked to the watercourse—Bob and Reeves were wide-eyed, sparkling grins to each other. Reeves pointed his sniper rifle and adjust the scope to lock the head of the majestic beast in the frame; his finger was on the trigger—Two Bob was observing Reeves and was anticipating the kill...

A moose calf came running up and started suckling the mother cow, Reeves slowly lowered his rifle, "Fuck, I can't." True Bob was in a state of incredulity and tapped him to hurry...

"Take the shot, Reeves." The two quarry creatures' outstretched necks peered up to the distinct voices; sensed danger before they ran away...

"Why did you not shoot, man? What is the matter with you?" Reeves stood up and replied quietly. "It has got a calf that is still suckling."

"So what, you are now compassionate over some Bambi? Damn you, Reeves, we will never get a chance like that again!" He burst into latent anger.

Reeves walked away, pointing at some wild turkeys toms feeding on berries from a juniper tree. "Let's stick to the regular menu. Bob."

Two Bob was still thwarted and he followed him, kicking anything that came at sight—if it was not for his bad eyesight, Bob would have brought along a rifle and would have taken the shot himself.