Some men are too stupid to live.
Not that I had any intention of letting them live, but I am genuinely surprised that the pair I stumbled across had lived as long as they did.
In France, during the Great War, I had several opportunities to see the British ‘Tanks’ as well as the smaller Renaults that the French had constructed for themselves. I wasn’t too surprised, then, to discover one of the Renaults in this version of Cross. The residents spoke French, though not quite the same as I knew, but they were dedicated to that country.
Well, back to the subject of the Renault.
Thorn and I were moving along at a good clip, me with my pipe and the hound with a bit of femur held firm in his muzzle. I had the Spencer in my hands rather than on my rucksack, and the path we were following was narrow if well-trodden.
Without warning, the path opened, and we found ourselves face to face with a pair of men in a Renault.
And here is where the stupidity of these men afforded me the opportunity to avoid a significant amount of pain.
They had the Renault opened. They were neither smoking nor eating, just occupying the armored space. Their eyes widened when they saw me, and for a moment, it was as though I could read their thoughts, for both men looked at their open hatches.
Each man reached out to try and secure his portion of the tank, but it did them no good.
The Spenser was already up and at my shoulder, and I was firing off the first shot before either of them could achieve their goal.
With a matter of seconds, both men were dead, their brains dripping down the interior of the vehicle.
I did not bother destroying the Renault. Doing so would mean I intended to leave someone alive.
And that was not something I was going to do.
With the corpses cooling in their steel coffin, the hound and I continued on our way.
#horror #fear #art