0728 Soft Touch
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The rain dripped from the jungle canopy overhead. One drop every five seconds struck his right cheek in a mild form of water torture but it was too much trouble to move his head the two inches required make it stop, or at least land somewhere else and spare him the torment of the seemingly endless thwop thwop thwop. Each drop hit his left cheekbone and splattered into pieces that went every which-a-way but most annoyingly into his eyelashes, which required him to blink them away or suffer the ignominy of blurred vision.
It wasn’t really that it was too much trouble; it was too much pain. He tried to set his hand on the ground to shift himself over a mite but the pain in his belly shot through him like a hot electric fire and he gave up before he even really started. He sighed and felt the hole again where the bullet had entered. The blood was coming out way too fast and it didn’t seem to matter what he tried; it just didn’t want to stop.
If Chipper and the sergeant didn’t get back soon, he was in for a heap of trouble. Chipper had promised him they would be back for him but there was that gunfire not long after they left and he had a bad feeling that Chipper wasn’t coming back here or anywhere. Chipper and Sarge had problems of their own.
The rain continued and the runoff collected under the seat of his pants. Just when you think things couldn’t get worse. He glanced at his pistol lying on the ground ten feet away but if he couldn’t even manage to change his position, there was no chance in hell that he could crawl all the way over there and finish this whole thing off.
He felt the bullet hole again and looked upwards just as another drop his cheek.
What does this have to do with Soft Touch? Exactly as much as this cover does.
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