“Nice gun,” said a small voice beside her.
Carrion had approached her left side and gotten within a foot of Tabitha without her noticing. It was off-putting, but there were bigger matters to attend to. “No, he’s Gorgeous,” she replied. She rested her right goggle lens into an open ring attached to the weapon’s rail mount and extended it through. A brass scope now reached from her eye, through the rifle, making Tabitha almost a part of it. She never relished the times she had to assemble her weapon – she liked to believe this connection she shared with the gun made her more aware of its weight. The act of firing it was like sending a piece of herself, like writing a letter that would break someone’s heart.
Tabitha was glad that this pointless conversation had ended so quickly. “Watch my back,” she said. She heard no reply, no movement – that would have to do.
Through her scope, Tabitha was able to confirm her suspicion – the elongated limbs, the prevalence of hair across his body, the facial structure already forming to a point to accommodate a snout. This man was suffering from the beast scourge. Having noticed Chela, he stood at the end of the dock, clinging to Alfred like a child may cling to a favorite stuffed toy. His stature and posture, combined with brutal features gave the creature a forbidding presence that made Tabitha grateful she had range on him, despite her suspicion that he could likely move much faster than she’d already seen.