Wanderer

by Richard Cheesman

think we've scared them off for a bit, you must have hit four, maybe five of them. I know I got two or three. That might even be all of them, who knows?" Anatoliy shrugged. “Still, we need to get some rest. Why don't you put you head down for an hour? I'll keep watch, then we can swap over.”

  “Are you sure?” Grigori replied, uncertain. “I mean...”

  “It's not a problem." He patted his weapon. “Besides, I have my little friend here. We'll keep watch, and it looks like you need some rest. It'll be dawn in a few hours, who knows, maybe these things won't be back to bother us now.”

  “Okay. If you say so." Grigori turned and reached for his pack, and set it near the fire as a makeshift pillow. He put his gun down at his side, ready. Just in case, he thought.

  He closed his eyes, and drifted into the unconsciousness of a deep sleep.