FoxZero.net

This still isn't quite done, but I feel it is presentable. I'll finish editing it at some point.

Originally written 12/8/09

Hastings hit the ground face first with a thud. Dirt and small rocks cut into his face. Dazed, he lifted his head to see an old man with a handgun approaching him from behind. All around him was an open field with a cloud of smoke rising about a hundred yards back. A few feet behind him was a large rock that had been propelled into his back.

“Still got that pitching arm of yours old man?” said Hastings between gasps. The old man stopped a few yards behind him and cocked the hammer of his revolver.

“What did I tell you about messing with my old shed?” he asked with a raspy voice.

“If you hadn’t killed my dog I never would have set fire to that ugly thing.” His right hand was still clutching the hatchet used for the break in. “Hell, if you hadn’t of spotted me I was planning on burning your whole damn house down.”

“You and your mouth. This has gone on ten years too long. You’ve been a thorn in my ass since you arrived.”

Hastings spat in his direction. “And you’ve been a real asshole since I got here. My wife left me ‘cause she wanted to move and I wanted to sit and wait for you to die.”

“Ha! Clearly she was the least dumb out of you two idiots. She should have took the dog, you’re too dumb to keep him from going on my property.” The old man laughed. “Now look at you. Pathetic as a dog.” A flash of heat washed over Hastings as his grip tightened on the hatchet. Every memory of the old man flashed before his eyes as he stared off down the field. His temples began to throb as the hatchet trembled. “Maybe I have wasted my time poisoning the dog. He’s clearly more useful than you.” The old man smiled and laughed again. “I could have thought of a better way to even the score.”

“You narcissistic piece of shit! You started this whole thing!” Hastings’s voice was coarse.

“Ha! You and that bitch wife of yours always getting into my business. You got what was coming for you.”

“Bullshit! You...” Hastings’s voice suddenly broke. “You just needed an excuse to start playing games with us.” Closing his eyes he put his head back down and breathed deep.

“Games? We’ve been past that for a long time.”

Hastings’s head shot up and leered at the old man. “Fuck you Colin!” The old man grinned fully, revealing a set of yellow teeth. Gazing at the grass before him he contemplated what Colin just said. The old man was right; they were well beyond playing children’s games. As his heart began to quicken he realized that their fighting needed to end. A jolt of adrenaline hit him as he rolled over and jerked his right arm back. He swung it towards the old man and let the hatchet fly. The old man raised his pistol and sent a bullet into Hastings’s chest right before the hatchet hit his throat. His head jerked back and he fell over backwards.

Clutching the bullet wound with his right hand, Hastings’s rolled over and started crawling towards the old man. Incredible pain shot through him as he inched his way towards his nemesis. When he got to the old man’s side he leaned over and pulled free the hands clutching the old man’s throat. Thin blood poured from the wound left by the hatchet. Hastings reached across the old man and picked up the revolver. Placing the muzzle between the old man’s eyes he fired two shots. Running his hand down his left cheek he smeared the blood splatter.

Hastings struggled to his feet and examined his wound. It was hopeless he thought. He placed the revolver under his chin, cocked the hammer, and then made one final glance at his old neighbor. “See you in hell old man.” The gunshot echoed off the house in the distance as the fire began to creep up its side.