Showdown in the fairgrounds

Mark didn’t have long to wait. He heard the crunch of gravel beneath wheels, then car doors being closed quietly. They had parked by the double doors. No way could they keep the sliding door quiet, and it screeched on it’s rollers.

Once inside he knew their eyes would have trouble adjusting to the dim light.

Before climbing into the barrel he had scooped up a handful of bolts from an open box. Now, he raised up and tossed a bolt across the room. He heard it strike wood with a clunk. He waited.

He chanced a quick look and to his pleasure they had split up, one going around the room on one side one on the other.
He waited until they were half way around the room before tossing another bolt back the way they’d come. He held his breath, hoping they would fall for his plan, and they did.

One of the punks was heading his way the other continuing around the building. He waited until they were across from one another, then he raise up and fired at the punk across the room. He intentionally missed.

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