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“For heaven's sake!”
The porcelain shattered right before his hand, flipping off the wooden table and into the ground. Dirk adjusted the sunglasses against the bridge of his nose, and took a few steps back as Jake reloaded the rifle. The humidity had begun to get to him, and he could feel the sweat at the nape of his neck. But the last thing he could do was tell Jake they should go back indoors.
Another plate exploded, this time at a safer distance from Dirk. The table Jake had set stretched out for about a yard, planted right against the jungle thicket. A blue shade covered the two boys overhead, leaving specks of golden sun at their feet and a blistering heat. Dried fruit sat at the bases of the thick trunks of the trees, accompanied by the occasional squeal of an animal.
This was not Houston, in fact Dirk almost felt the need to tell Jake how absurd it was compared to back home. The boy wiped the sweat at his brow, and sat down in the tangled vines. He brushed his hand against the legs of his jeans, and continued to watch the other aim at the table.
The sound was piercing, and was immediately followed by a screeching that resonated through the branches. Jake lowered the rifle, pointing the barrel away from his feet. His jacket sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, and his monster pattern shirt had already been thoroughly worn. He knelt down into the soil, and reached for utility belt Dirk had carried along.
“It really works,” Jake said.
Dirk reached for a magazine, tossing it to the other boy. For the best of situations, he would have liked to actually bring his own magazines. However Jake’s seamlessly endless supply of the things always made him reconsider the action. And most fortunate of all Jake was the least the care about who bothered to actually make use of them - at least when those people were Dirk.
Jake sat besides the other, switching the safety on and laying the rifle across him and Dirk’s laps. As he reached for the chamber, he continued, “It’s not a bad model, actually.”
The fragments of the plates lied scattered around them. Some had flown directly away from where the bullet had hit them, striking the bark of the trees or directly into the sky. Dirk replied, “You really need to let me get a better look at this.” He shifted, pulling down his muffs and watching the boy besides him exchange the magazines.
Jake moved away, taking the rifle as he stood up, sliding the protection goggles back over his eyes. He held the weapon up to his chest, and gave the other a grin. Dirk paused for a moment, looking up at the boy standing over him, not quite sure what the say next. On several occasions in the past Jake and him would trek into the jungle outside the others household. That was simply how it was whenever Dirk found the right time to visit.
“You can’t bother to let me examine your own robotic inventions,” Jake started. “Why - it’s almost incomprehensible you would even consider me giving you the permission to fondle my dearest possessions!”
Before Dirk could bother with a reply, Jake had stomped away back to the shooting range. Dirk reluctantly pulled the muffs back over his ears as another gunshot strided through the wildlife. Another shot followed it as a flock of birds suddenly evacuated the tree tops and flew over the two.
Jake paused for a moment, adjusted the strap around his shoulder and gawking with an open mouth. Dirk rolled his eyes, and rose up on to his feet. As he approached the other, Jake released another bullet from the rifle. The barrel steamed as Dirk heard another of the plates be destroyed behind him.
“I’m kind of impressed, actually,” Dirk told his friend. “You have the mind to go out in the middle of nowhere, and then go out in the jungle just to fire a few bullets.”
The rifle in Jake’s grasp jerked back as another shot flew out. However this time there wasn’t the piercing sound of a shattering plate. Jake begrudgingly lowered the gun, fixing the sling around his shoulder. The sweat around his neck glistened, and the collar of his cameo seemed to have already dampened but completely ignored. Dirk awkwardly tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling the humidity making it stick to his skin.
“But I’m pretty sure I don’t have any obligations to say that. I honestly have no opinion about going out of your way, setting up a seventy yard long table as your own fine china shooting range,” he continued.
Another plate shattered, and another screeching mess of birds followed it. Dirk paused, pressing his muffs against his ears, watching as Jake leaned on his knee. The glasses wearing boy steadied his elbow on it, carefully holding up the rifle with aim. The boy could shoot, Dirk definitely knew that, but had never taken the time to consider how precise he ever was. But just being capable of making any marks had left some considerable impressions with him.
However they weren’t exactly the same impression he had gotten when Jake had first locked the bedroom door behind them. And it had definitely left an impression when Jake delicately revealed his complex assortment of machinery with his utmost chipper exposition.
Jake winced, and picked himself back up to eye level with Dirk. He stared back into the sunglasses of the other boy, hiding whatever stoic expression he decided he wear today. Jake broke out into a small snicker, turning his attention back towards his the range.
“You consider the fact that I’m not so knowledgeable about that,” Jake answered.
Dirk had returned back to the tree with Jake’s utilities, taking the time to climb up its trunk and attempt to watch the other individual. However the branches gave him an inadequate view, blocking out parts the outrageously extended table. Jake moved from his position, seemingly oblivious to the location of his companion. Dirk found himself grinning, sitting across the branches as Jake continued to fire at expensive dinnerware.
About two or three of the plates remained, like sole soldiers in a tragic gun-totting teenager induced battle of glory. Dirk had honestly caught himself questioning the other boy’s choice in hobbies. However there wasn’t exactly much to do on a completely deserted island when you had such an extensive gun gallery. Actually, he could imagine plenty of things to make use with machinery a deserted island. Except none of that exactly included making sure your heritage possessions made it like fireworks on the fourth of July.
“Dirk?” Jake called out. He pulled down his rifle, leaving the remaining plates untouched. Dirk hesitated on replying, and instead slowly descended down the tree trunk.
Before his feet could touch the ground, he felt the steaming tip of the gun’s barrel press against his neck. Dirk hissed, reaching out behind him and grabbing a fistful of Jake’s shirt. Jake stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on the rifle as it swung recklessly towards his hip.
Jake winced as the scope struck his legs. Dirk released the boy, rubbing his neck, and staring down at him. Despite his companion’s sudden use of force, the glasses wearing teenager appeared have a concern outweighing any about himself. He nervously grabbed his rifle, cautiously checking it for any scuffs or damage. Dirk paused, closing his mouth and letting go of the spot on his neck.
“Exactly the reasons you shouldn’t own any of those,” he told Jake.
His friend looked up at him, eyes completely open and with a slight stutter, “Well mate, coming down out of trees, nowhere -“
“Don’t pull that shit, bro,” Dirk stated.
The trees rustled around them, and they both could feel the sun burning against their skin. Jake shuffled uncomfortable, fixing his sling again and positioning his rifle back to his side. He reached over for the utility belt by the tree, swinging it back over his shoulder without a word. Dirk stood in place, waiting for the other to collect his belongings.
Jake said dryly, “Right then, time we go anyways.”
Dirk crossed his arms, following Jake as he began making his way back to the trail they had followed to the range. The black haired boy slowly moved with his equipment, however Dirk had the least of initiatives to assist him.
“Maybe you should go find some other hobby,” he started, “like swords.”
“Swords,” Jake replied. He stopped for a moment, and watched the other continue to move past him. “darnest thing I’ve ever heard of.”