?Sorry, I just misspoke.?
?I don?t like this. This whole gig is wrong.?
?We take them now. Concentrate on your shot. The priority is the boy. Take the girl if you can. Do it, T-Bone. This is one thing you?re really good at. I?m proud of you.?
T-Bone wrapped the rifle sling around his left forearm and clicked off the safety. He moved into a more comfortable position, his left elbow anchored in a sandy spot free of sharp rocks, the steel toes of his hobnailed work shoes dug into the hillside, his scrotum tingling against the ground.
?There they go. Take the shot,? Hugo said.
?The minister is walking a little girl into the creek.?
?Take the shot.?
?Flores and the girl are holding hands. I cain?t see for a clear shot.?
?What are you talking about??
?The minister and a little girl are right behind them.?
?Take the shot.?
?Stop yelling.?
?You want me to do it? Take the shot.?
?There?s colored people everywhere. You whack them and it?s a hate crime.?
?They can afford to lose a few. Take the shot.?
?I?m trying.?
?Give me the rifle.?
?I?ll do it. Let them get clear.? T-Bone raised the barrel slightly, leading his target, his unshaved jaw pressed into the stock, his left eye squinted shut. ?Ah, beautiful. Yes, yes, yes. So long, alligator boy.?
But he didn?t pull the trigger.
?What happened?? Hugo said.
T-Bone pulled back from the crest, his face glistening and empty, like that of a starving man who had just been denied access to the table. ?They went up the steps into the back of the church. I lost them in the gloom. I didn?t have anything but a slop shot.?
Hugo hit the flat of his fist on the ground, his teeth gritted.
?It?s not my fault,? T-Bone said.
?Whose is it??
T-Bone worked the bolt on his rifle and opened the breech, ejecting the unfired round. It was a soft-nosed .30-06, its brass case a dull gold in the twilight. He fitted it back into the magazine with his thumb and eased the bolt back into place and locked it down so the chamber was empty. He rolled on his back and squinted up at Hugo, his eyelashes damp with perspiration. ?You bother me.?
?I bother you??
?Yeah.?
?You care to tell me why??
??Cause I never saw you scared before. Has ole Jack Collins got you in his sights? ?Cause if you ask me, somebody has got you plumb scared to death.?
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