Quincunx Posted December 25, 2006 Report Posted December 25, 2006 Lily sprinted through the field, muddy to the hips and not caring one bit, swerving between squat brown grease-paper tents, laughing aloud. She ducked a friendly handful of ammunition and squatted behind the nearest tent, then ripped it open and tugged one of the rifles free from the loam. The tent wavered, then collapsed on the plant underneath it; unripe bullets clinked together, fell from the vine, and tumbled softly to earth. She propped up the remaining rifles and lifted the flap of grease-paper to check the damage-- "Hey!" she squealed when Adam took the opportunity to drop another handful of bullets on her back. "You're wicked!" "You shouldn't've taken your eyes off the target," Adam retorted, leaning over her and the tent, grinning. "You take your eyes off the target, you're dead, dead, dead!" "Ok, ok, I'm dead, now help me fix this." Adam knelt on the other side of the tents and held up the remaining rifles while Lily adjusted their balance and pulled the grease-paper back in place, then folded it over with sharp creases. When she released the paper, the ends tried to unwrap from their supports, but one crease hooked into another and held the tent in place. "Do you think it'll still keep out the frost?" she asked. He stood up and brushed clumps of dirt from the knees of his jeans. "I hope so, but they're not that great even without frostburn. Not as bad as lima beans, but--" Lily whacked his shins with a two-handed stroke, hands just above the rifle's sights. "Gotcha! Took your eyes off the target!" He stuck his tongue out at her and kept on brushing at his jeans. "I'm winning the crusade again! So there!" she beamed, before turning and running through the remainder of the field. Adam had almost caught up with her before she gained the cover of the orchard, but soon all the tracks he could find were half-footprints in fallen and rotting apples.
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