Monday, January 7, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 134.04

He was just zipping up his flies when he heard Peters's hesitant “Sir?” from the clearing and stepped out to see the flood of expressions on the sergeant's face. “Ah! There you are, Sir. Thought you'd gone home for a minute.”

“Gone home?” White used an undercurrent of pretended anger to mask how pleased he was that his sergeant had seemed worried by his absence. “What part of a stake-out includes 'going home'?”

“It doesn't sir, which is why I brought this.” He tilted to one side and unshouldered a huge backpack. “I'm glad to be free of it, to be honest. It weighs a ton. I don't know hos these soldier-types do it, yomping all over the countryside with a sixty pound pack.” He freed a gallon water jug from his belt, put his hands to his hips and stretched. “Gawd. I've only walked from the car. I didn't think I'd make it.”

“Fitness, I think. What have you got in there?”

“A tent and sleeping bags, for starters. I figured we'd need a bit of shelter as the evening wore on and I don't fancy sleeping in there.” He nodded to the burial site. “Not that camping inside it is allowed, of course.”

“No, of course not. Id have to arrest us if we did that. Desecration of a public site and so on.”

“Exactly, sir.” Peters unstrapped the tent and sleeping bags and opened the bag. “Here you go, sir.” He pulled out a small camping stove, complete with gas cannister and a kettle. “I bet you could do with a cup of tea by now.”

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