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I kept my voice low, rather than let him know I had help coming. "He's by the gate. He's got a bow, probably compound, not a crossbow. I haven't seen a gun. I'm behind a twenty-yard butt just left of Eddie's shop, about forty yards from him. Hurry!" Don' let heem get away!" Her accent gets thicker when she's excited."Like I have a choice?" I muttered, reholstering the phone. Nocking a target arrow I peeked through the big hole he'd just made in my butt. No, not MY personal butt -- oh you know what I mean.SHIT! He was on the move and I couldn't wait for Maria. He was maybe thirty yards away, advancing slowly, and now I knew another reason he'd hung back. At about four hundred pounds he was built for intimidation, not mobility. He probably notched his ass for each victim he killed by just sitting on them. He didn't stalk anything or anyone. He lumbered on legs like tree trunks, his big feet spread to balance his bulk. He was a sniper, lurking, sucking down beer and cheeseburgers,. . OK?"Neil chuckled. "too much to take sometimes".Mae laughed and shoved his head playfully. "Yeah, although you lasted longer than I thought last night." Really? Boy, I didn't manage very long at all." No... but wasn't that your fantasy? Me licking Harriet while you had sex with her?"Neil grunted affirmatively. "I think our afternoon encounter may have helped quite a bit." Still... you managed to last out... That deserves some praise. Good boy"Neil laughed at her and licked her leg like a dog. "I'm a good boy, huh?"Mae giggled and smacked his head. "No touchy. I'm dirty and sticky and nasty with all your joooooses."Harriet mumbled something from the bed and Neil grinned. "I think sleeping beauty rises."Harriet threw a pillow aimlessly, missing them completely."I think she needs a wake up call" Mae mused."How should we wake her?" I think a wake up COCK is in order" Mae said, blushing slightly and giggling.Harriet sat up, her thick hair standing in every direction. "You sicko bastards.
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It was difficult work to make a living as a fishermen on the Irrawaddy these days, or anywhere else in Burma for that matter, but somehow U Tha managed, just as his father before him had. The trick, he always told his neighbors, was to get up early, so that you could check your fishing lines before the oppressive tropical heat became too unbearable. As he came to a calm area near the bank, he began to do just that. U Tha had only found this particular spot a couple months ago, but he found that it was especially good fishing. He’d caught dozens of catfish, eels, carp, snakeheads and gar in this particular location, so he made a habit of setting his lines there. Unfortunately, he had no such luck today. At first, there seemed to be nothing on the hooks at all, but then, some started to come up with nothing more than mere scraps and fish heads. U Tha cursed under his breath. Something — or perhaps even someone — must have found out about this spot and started poaching from him. As if.

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