Lucy’s Arsenal Is In The Kitchen

The soldiers moved in the darkness and nothing Lucy could do would stop their constant stomping. No ear muffs, pillow or combinations thereof could stifle their cadences. They moved through the night and day, loudly speaking as if the whole city was their parade grounds. Lucy rose from her bed and groped her way down stairs.

Underneath the microwave in the kitchen, out of the cabinet, she took her little prize and put it on the island table between the microwave and the oven. Slowly, she unwrapped the towels and beheld it. It was an M16A4, sadly without the grenade launcher. First, she checked the ammunition. Satisfied that it wasn’t wet, she slowly went through the process of forcing the bullets back into the cartridge. When that was done, she took the bolts out and inspected the barrel. It was clear. She put the assault rifle away.

She also had a shotgun, a designated marksman’s rifle and a revolver she could check but she was tired now and sufficiently happy to sleep. The soldiers had left her for a time and she could now sleep without fear of their stomping and shouting. Sometimes, she wondered if they were there at all. Such notions were silly as she could clearly hear them every night.

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