That got the little sniper in my head ticking away. It reminded me that damp, humid air is thicker than dry, causing the bullet to drop faster. Hot air has the reverse effect because it is thinner, so offers less resistance and sends the bullet higher. What was I supposed to do on a very hot day in a very humid jungle? Fuck it, I'd leave it alone, I'd only just got rid of my headache, I didn't want it back. Five inches should be OK. I'd be confirming back at 300 anyway.
I took another shot and followed through, my point of aim staying on the circle.
My round still cut paper to the left, less than a quarter of an inch in from the first. The shots were well grouped, so I knew that the first round wasn't just a wild crazy one; the sight did need adjusting.
The birds were well pissed-off at being disturbed a second time, and I sat up and watched them as I waited for the barrel to cool. It was then that I saw Carrie making her way towards me from the rear of the house.
TWENTY-THREE
She was about 150 metres away, swinging a two-litre bottle of water in her right hand. I waved. As she looked at me and waved back, I got a flare of sunlight from her wraparounds. I sat back against the tree and watched her get nearer.
She looked as if she was floating above the heat haze.
When she got closer I could see her hair flick back and forth with each stride.
'How's the zero going?'
Tine, just off a bit to the left.'
She held out the bottle with a smile. The condensation glistened on the plastic:
it had come straight out of the fridge. I nodded my thanks and stood up, catching my own reflection again in those fly's eye glasses of hers.
I sat back down against the tree, unscrewing the top.
She looked down, fingering her hair behind her ears.
'It's a real hot one today.'
'Sure is.' It was routine, the bullshit stuff that people exchange when they don't know each other, plus I was trying to keep her well away from any mention of last night. I got the bottle to my lips and took some long, hard swallows.
The plastic started to collapse in my fingers; I wasn't letting any air past the tight seal of my lips.
She stayed above me, hands on hips, in the same position as the Yes Man had taken a few days earlier, but without the attitude.
The sight might've taken some knocks over the months. I use the iron sights, they're never off anyone out here in the open is within their range.'
I stopped drinking. There was a pop and a gurgle as air rushed into the vacuum and the plastic resumed its normal shape.
'Ever had to?'
Her glasses hid any clues her eyes might be giving away.
'Once, a few years back. These things can happen out here, you know.' She put out her hand for the water.
I watched as she threw her head back and took five or six gulps above me, her throat moving with each swallow. I could hear the fluid going down, and see the muscles in her right arm tauten as she tilted the bottle. Her skin had a light sheen of moisture; on me it would just have looked like sweat.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
'Question. If it's just for protection, how come you're checking the scope?' She pointed into the jungle.
'No good in there, is it?'
I gave her my most disarming smile.
'As I said, I just like to be prepared, that's all.'
'And is that down to your training, or down to you?' She hesitated. I wished I could see her eyes.
'How do you get to do this sort of thing?'
I wasn't sure I could explain.
'Want to help me?'
She caught my tone and went with it.
'Sure.'
We took the few paces over to the grassy mound.
'Is silence your way of dealing with it, Nick? I mean, is silence the way you protect yourself from the things you need to do for your work?'
I saw my reflection as I tried to look through her lenses: she was smiling, almost taunting me.
'All I want you to do is aim dead centre into the black circle. I just want to adjust the sights.'
'One shot zero, right?'
'Right.'
'OK, tell you what you aim, you're stronger. I'll adjust.'
I opened the bolt, ejecting the empty case, reloaded and applied Safe as we reached the mound.
'I want the same elevation.'
She raised her eyebrow.
'Sure.' I was telling her how to suck eggs Instead of supporting it with my left hand, I started to push the stock into the mud. Her sandals were inches from my face.
'Tell me when.'
I looked up. Her sunglasses were now on the back of her neck with the arms facing forward and the black nylon retaining necklace dangling down on to her vest. Her huge green eyes were blinking to adjust to the light.
I started to pack mud around the stock: the weapon needed to be locked tight into position for this to work. Once that was done, I checked that the score marks were still in line on the sight, and aimed dead centre of the black circle.
'OK.'
There was an 'Affirmative' from above as she pushed down on the mound with her sandal led foot, compacting the earth around the stock as I held it firmly in position. My arms strained as I tried to keep the weapon in a vice-like grip to ensure the post sight stayed dead centre. I could have done this on my own but it would have taken a whole lot longer.
She had finished packing the soil over the weapon and I still had a good sight picture, so I told her this 'On' and moved my head to the left so she could lean over and see the target through the sight. Our heads touched as her right hand moved on to the windage dial on the left side of the optic, and started to turn it. I heard a series of metallic clicks as she moved the post left until the point of aim was directly below the two rounds that I had fired, whilst remaining in line with the centre of the black circle.
It only took her fifteen seconds, but it was time enough for me to smell the soap on her skin, and feel the gentle movement of air as she controlled her breathing.
My breath stank after not brushing since Saturday, so I moved my lips to divert the smell away from us both as she clicked away. She moved her head back more quickly than I wanted her to and squatted on her knees.
'OK, done.' I could feel the warmth of her leg against me.
I had to move my arm out of the way to drag my Leatherman out of my pocket and passed it up to her, glad that I'd cleaned it.
'Score it for me, will you?'
She opened out the knife blade and leant over to scrape a line from the dial on to the metal housing of the optic, so I'd be able to tell if the dial had been inadvertently moved, knocking the zero off.
Her vest was gaping in front of me as she worked and I couldn't stop myself looking. She must have seen me: I couldn't move the focus of my gaze quickly enough as she returned to her kneeling position.
'Who sprinkled you with horny dust?' There was a smile to go with her question, and she kept her big green eyes on mine, but her expression couldn't have given me a bigger no.
'Are you going to confirm?'
Pulling the weapon from the mud, I cleared my throat.
'Yeah, I suppose I'll annoy the birds again.'
