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Chapter 26 - Boys And Their Guns

CHAPTER 26

JOHN

Carly tip-toed in the bathroom early on Saturday morning and leaned against the doorframe, watching me shave. I was already dressed in boots and a whole lot of camo, as well as an orange vest on top. It was the first day of quail season and I was actually pretty excited about it.

"What are you doin' up? Did I wake you?" I asked.

"No, I just wanted to see you off," she whispered groggily, stifling a yawn.

I unplugged my electric razor and turned to face her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you today?" I asked.

"I'll be okay," Carly answered with a faint smile. "Go have fun with the boys and bring me back some meat... I'll probably just be pukin' my guts out anyway," she added playfully, pressing her lips to mine.

"Sexy," I chuckled, kissing her.

"Oh I try," she laughed against my lips, wrapping her arms loosely around my shoulders.

I leaned down and kissed her flat belly too. "You better behave yourself, don't be givin' your mama too much hell," I warned.

"Goof," Carly smirked, stifling a yawn. "Alright, go on and go shoot stuff... I'm goin' back to bed," she sighed.

It was three in the morning when Steve and Darryl pulled up into the driveway. I got in the back of the truck, squeezing in next to three bird dogs, and we drove about an hour to a hunting spot that Steve, being the more avid hunter between the three of us, had picked out. We had to hike a couple miles into the bush after that too, so by the time we reached our destination it was almost six.

We settled on the edge of a clearing and I found out soon enough that by hunting quail, what Darryl and Steve really meant was: getting drunk and acting like idiots for most of the day.

There was some shooting involved too, in a manner of speaking anyway. Darryl, a freelance photographer when he wasn't working as a driver for his father's towing company, had his camera and got a lot of great shots.

It was a surprisingly good time, even for an introvert like me.

"Hey man," Darryl said as he came to stand next to me, handing me another beer. He took a swig of his own and we watched the dogs for a while, sniffing about the ground, eager to be put to work. "Did Carly tell ya the news?" he asked as we watched the dogs take off and then come right back again, jumping at each other, the sound of low growls and playful barks resounding through the clearing.

"No, what's up?" I replied.

"Maisy and I are havin' a baby next summer," Darryl said, trying to keep a straight face but failing quite miserably. The excitement and joy on his features and in his voice was unmistakable.

"Really? That's great news," I said.

"Damn straight, it is," Darryl grinned.

"So I'm guessin' Maisy didn't tell you that Carly's pregnant too?" I wondered, a smirk playing on my lips. What were the odds of that happening?

"Are you for real?" Darryl laughed.

"Oh yeah," I answered with a shaky breath. "Gives a whole new meanin' to menstrual cycles syncin' up, doesn't it?" I chuckled.

Darryl burst out laughing; if we were hunting whitetail right now, he would've ruined our chances of catching any game. "You never know with those two, they're attached at the hip, might as well be ovaries too," he agreed.

I couldn't stop laughing.

"What the fuck are y'all talkin' about menstrual cycles and ovaries for?" Steve grunted, looking absolutely repulsed.

In the distance, near the treeline, three dogs started to howl and the laughter immediately died down.

"So it's good news?" Darryl asked.

I thought about it for a moment; the idea of my pending fatherhood was starting to take root in my brain, and yeah, the more I mulled it over, the more I started to see the good things that were coming with the not-so-good. I was going to be a dad, and as terrifying as that was, it excited me too.

"Definitely good news," I grinned.

"Just you wait, five years from now we could be coachin' little league together," Darryl mused.

"If you play ball the same way you play pool, I ain't havin' ya coach my kid," I told him pointedly. "You're a God-awful strategist."

Darryl laughed and raised his beer to meet mine halfway.

"Congrats brother," he said.

"Yeah man, you too... cheers," I replied.

"Alright, alright, stop it with the sentimental crap, let's get some huntin' done!" Steve said, coming to stand between us. He gave the command for his dogs to rush the covey. Three dogs took off full speed again, sent mud flying as they sped off, causing about a dozen quails to take off flying.

"I bet ya we'll have meat to fill all our freezers," Steve said, aiming his shotgun.

Darryl did the same.

Two gunshots rang out.

Something in me snapped... and then...

"Mick, get down!" I yelled, throwing myself onto the damp earth and dragging Darryl down with me, the sound of gunfire echoing in my head. I could feel the heat of the blast; I could taste the blood in my mouth and I could see Mick lying in front of me.

"John! Hey, buddy, what's going on?"

"Tell my mom... and Sadie... Tell them I love... Tell them I love them... take care..." Mick's voice echoed in my ears, distant and yet so damn close.

"John! Snap out of it man," Darryl said urgently, grabbing onto my shoulders and shaking me. I wasn't seeing him. I wasn't in the woods anymore, I wasn't even in Texas.

"Keep him steady Alex! Help me, goddammit!" I barked.

"John, it's me, it's Darryl... You're fine, you're safe..." Darryl said.

I blinked. I had one hand on my weapon and the other was gripping onto Darryl's shirt so tight that I could barely feel my fingers. I let him go.

"Yeah," I muttered uncertainly.

"Shit! What the hell happened?" Steve asked, standing above us. The dogs were running around proudly at his feet, two of them with quails in their mouth.

"Nothin'," I said quickly, shrugging off Darryl's hand on my shoulder and pushing myself up into a standing position, gripping my gun. "I'm fine."

Darryl and Steve exchanged looks.

"I'm fine, too much beer," I shrugged dismissively.