The ungodly sound of my alarm clock jolts me awake, the shrill buzzing tone ripping any chance of sleep away in an instant. I reach my hand from under the cover to silence my phone before the noise drives me crazy. Cursing as it slides off my nightstand into the floor, I fumble with it a moment before it finally mercifully goes silent.

“Shit. Why the hell did I set that damn thing on my day off.” I grumble as I pull the covers down off my face.

Before I could blink the sleep from my eyes, I'm assaulted by a wet nose and tongue in my face. Courtesy of the hundred and forty pound Bernese furball I call a dog.

“Down Sarge, down I'm awake.” I yell trying to push him off my chest. He jumps back, tail wagging, while he stretches his head out on the floor. He's looking up at me as if he's asking if I'm really up because if I am then it's time to play.

I quickly fling the covers the rest of the way off me, swinging my legs onto the ground, shaking my head to clear the sleep from my brain.

“Ok, ok, let's go let you out.”

I try to wake up and stretch my arms with a tiring yawn.The tips of my fingers can just graze the ceiling above me. As I am turning around, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on my closet door. My blonde hair is long and messy from sleep, nearly blocking my bright blue eyes from view. I'm not overly muscled, and far from having a six pack like some body builder, but I think I'm fairly well put together. My muscles came from working on my parent's farm as a child. Endless reps of throwing square bales kept me on the lean side and it thankfully has stayed with me after moving out on my own.

As I'm looking in the mirror, Sarge starts to bark, reminding me that I'm supposed to be letting him outside. I chuckle before walking to open the bedroom door. I head down the hall to quickly open the back door for Sarge to rush past me. He quickly circles the yard checking that all the smells are still in place before taking care of his morning business. I step out on the back porch, it's little more than a four foot square slab of concrete, just enough to let someone stand on it and enjoy the rising sun. Speaking of which, it's just starting to peek over the horizon, spreading a gentle light over the fields behind my house.

By rights, I should be cautious of standing out on my back porch in just my boxers. Thankfully, my nearest neighbor is a mile away and my house faces the road.

“Come on Sarge, I ain't got all day.” I said with a laugh. His head swivels around to look at me, mouth open in his signature smile. He comes bounding over covering the distance in a heartbeat, sliding to a stop in front of me.

“What do you think? Want to go to the range today?” I ask bending down to scratch his head and shaking his ears with my near violent scratches. His tail is wagging already, but when I say range, the tail kicks into overdrive beating the grass back and forth.

“That's what I thought. The grass can wait can't it?” I say with a laugh knowing I need to cut it before long.

Of all the things I didn't think about when I bought a house, grass was the one thing I regret the most. I wanted a big yard, perfect for dogs and hopefully one day kids, however, I should have thought about the amount of time I'd spend cutting this said yard. Oh well, I think to myself, no point crying about it now. Besides, Sarge loves how much room he has to run. The few times I’ve let him into the cornfields behind the house, he really seems to love it. Maybe I should look into buying more land off the famer who owns the land around me. I make a mental note to mention it to him next time we see each other.

“Come on then, before we go anywhere I need a shower.” I say to Sarge before heading back into the house with Sarge hot on my heels.

I quickly made my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and taking care of my own morning business. Looking in the mirror as I wash my hands, I take a closer look at my face. I need a shave as I run a hand over the stubble forming on my cheeks and chin. Or maybe I should just grow my beard out for a while as it might help me look a little older. I'm twenty-three now, but I still get carded if I try to buy tobacco. I usually laugh about it as it can get annoying. Thankfully, I only smoke when I drink and after I turned twenty one, it stopped being fun, so I don't drink to often anymore.

As I step into the shower, Sarge hops in behind me. I laugh as he tries to slide underneath me to get under the water.

“Oh, so you need a shower too, huh?” I ask laughing, he looks up at me as if to say, well yeah. I quickly pull the shower head down to soak Sarge in the water. He grins up at me enjoying the cooler than I prefer water. I figured Sarge would jump in as like he usually does so I had set the water just above room temp. He loves the water, but hates the heat. Now that Sarge is soaked down, I quickly clean myself before grabbing the shampoo to lather up my hair and Sarge’s.

“Don't give me that.” I tell him as he starts to squirm around. “You wanted a shower that means soap and you know it. You knew it before you got in.” I tell him, quickly lathering him up and rinsing him and my hair clean.

“Now stay here a minute.” I tell him stepping out and closing the curtain. “Ok Sarge, now shake.” I say as I pull out two large fluffy towels. I feel water hitting me as he shakes droplets arching over the shower curtain to soak the floor. I sigh, at least it's less than if I haven't closed the curtain. I pull the curtain back and Sarge happily jumps out, still wearing that grin of his, tongue hanging out and showing all his teeth.

I quickly towel myself off before kneeling next to Sarge to do the same for him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you hate this part.” I say as he tries to squirm away. I quickly dry him down as best as I can with the towel. He's still wet, but not soaking like he was before. I use the two towels to mop up the excess water on the floor before tossing them in the hamper and heading back to my bedroom. Walking into the room, Sarge hops on the bed, turning back to me his whole rear wagging and not just his tail.

“Hey, off the bed while you're wet.” I yell causing Sarge to hop off the bed, but he is still jumping around excited.

My room is fairly large, but the king size bed makes it seem slightly smaller. Add in the antique wood dresser and I now have enough room to walk around my bed. Maybe I could do a few pushups between the bed and door if it's shut.

I quickly pull on a pair of boxers from the top drawer of my dresser, followed by a plain white t-shirt from the one beside it. Turning around, I look at Sarge who is currently dragging my jeans from yesterday to me from where their usual spot. I chuckle taking them from his mouth.

“Yeah these will work for another day huh.” I say before pulling them on and fastening my belt. I walk to my closet debating on a shirt for a moment before deciding on a red plaid short sleeve button up.

“What do you think?” I ask Sarge holding the shirt up. He barks at me, wagging his tail happily.

“Good enough huh.” I say sliding it on my shoulders, but leaving it unbuttoned. I grab a pair of socks, walk out to the living room, and grab my boots by the front door before sitting on the couch to pull them on.

My fingers make quick work of tying the strings on my scuffed up work boots. After I'm done, I look up seeing Sarge sitting beside the kitchen doorway. I quickly stand and walk into the kitchen knowing what he is wanting. Sarge follows at my heels as I grab a treat off the counter. Kneeling down, I quickly put his collar on him with well practiced movements. Standing, we head out the side door into the attached garage. I hit the switch opening the automatic door causing the early morning light to fill the garage. The weak light hits the hood of my truck, an '82 square body chevy, lovingly restored by my father and me. I can't count the hours we spent working on my truck, or the number of cuts and bruises we collected before it was all said and done. The matte black paint doesn't shine, but seems to absorb the light hitting it.

“Let's load up the ones out here then get our babies from the house, what do you say Sarge?” I ask the smiling brute sitting beside me.

He whines quietly as I rub his still damp head causing me to laugh. “What are you complaining about? I'm the one that has to carry everything.” I say quickly walking to the gun safe and cabinet along the back wall beside a set of crude shelves I had put up shortly after moving in.

The safe is a Liberty 48 gun model. I feel my back started to ache in memory of moving it here as I quickly spin the dial and swinging it open. Inside the safe, there's not much empty room as most of the space is taken up by long guns, rifles, and shotguns sitting inside.

“What do you think Sarge, should we bring out the big boy guns today?” I ask looking over my shoulder.

Sarge barks once trotting over to stick his nose in the safe beside me. After a moment, his nose touches one of the guns inside. A lever action Henry Chambered in 45-70.

“Oh so you want the wild west gun huh?” I say with a laugh pulling it out and leaning it beside the door.

Range bag.

I mumble to myself grabbing a 5.11 two gun rifle case off the nearby shelf. I open it up and slide the Henry inside to secure it with the velcro straps. I look into the safe before pulling out a Browning 308 bolt action and slide it in beside the Henry. Even though it's just a two gun bag, I've found that if you put two on either side of the divider, it easily holds four long guns. Securing the boltgun beside the Henry, I try to be careful of the scope as I move the bag so the other side of the divider is facing up. Next, I add in a Springfield M1a, which is my baby, and by far my favorite 308 rifle I own. Beside it, I place one of my AR’s a flat top m4 variety with a free floating handguard made by Rock River. Zipping the bag closed, I turn and open the tailgate of my truck hopping up into the bed.

Half the bed space is taken up by a jobsite box mounted to the bed and a toolbox up against the cab underneath which includes a roll bar made of square tube stock. I squeeze around the jobsite box that opens the toolbox to lay the case down inside carefully, not to knock around the assorted tools inside. I set the bag where it won’t move too much. Shutting the lid, I quickly lock it with the key before clipping them back on my waist.

“Now for some pistols, what do you think, revolvers or semi?” I ask Sarge who is currently watching me from the ground.

In response he barks twice and goes back to grinning. “Semi it is, don't know why I even bothered to ask.” I say with a laugh.

I hop out of the bed grabbing a range bag that looks like a molle’d out messenger bag that was on the shelf. Looking in the safe again, I start pulling out my personal favorites. A Beretta 92fs goes in the bag, followed by a Sig p320 compact, Steyr M9, and a H&K P30L.

I’m a John Wick fan, sue me. Obviously, I bought the gun just because it was used in the first movie. I set the bag down on the tailgate to grab another simple shoulder bag from the shelf. I shut the safe and open the cabinet beside it. The cabinet is one of those industrial metal jobs, the kind you see in most shops. It’s thin metal with a pair of simple latches to hold it shut as it sits about seven feet tall and is easily five feet wide. It's also where I store most of my ammo, at least whats not in the house.

The inside of the cabinet is divided into two sections. There are three shelves on top with loaded magazines and underneath is stacks of metal ammo cans labeled with masking tape. I quickly load up four magazines for each of the pistols and five of the twenty round mags for the M1a. I look at the stack of AR mags before dumping about twenty of them, give or take, in the bag as well. I grunt at the added weight before setting the bag on the tailgate. I hop up beside it and move over to the jobsite box to open it up to check inside. Inside the box, I see an assortment of steel targets and baseplates. I quickly stash the pistol and ammo bags inside before shutting it and locking it.

Turning back to look at Sarge, I see him lying down eyes looking up at me.

“Don't worry we are almost done.” I say hopping down again. As quick as I can, I load up several of the ammo cans while grabbing the ones loaded with 45-70, 308, 9mm, and 5.56. Better to have too much ammo than to be regretting it later on I always say. I slide the cans up to rest beside the jobsite box and shut the tailgate. I also set in two jerry cans of gas by the tailgate. You never know when it will come in handy to have a gas can. I know I've needed one more than a couple of times when I first started driving.

“Come on Sarge, let's grab the rest.” I say walking back into the house with Sarge on my heels. I walk back into the bedroom and open the closet door further, finding my ‘go to shit gear’. My ‘go to shit gear’ is when an emergency happens, I know to grab nothing else but this bag and get the hell out.

Hanging in the closet is my well worn plate carrier that has four double stack mag pouches loaded on the front. Also hanging beside it is a wide leather belt with two mag pouches for a pistol on one side and a holstered Sig P320 full size on the other. An AR sits in the corner, leaning against the wall. Unlike the one I loaded up already, this is one I built myself with an acog resting on top. Why do I have guns in my room if my safe is in the garage? Because this is America and I dont have to answer stupid questions. Plus if something goes to shit, do you really want to have to run all the way across the house to get your gear for personal defense? I mean every zombie movie out there tells you why that's a bad idea.

I pick up my plate carrier and belt while grabbing my AR with the same hand. One last piece of equipment is in the closet. A molle harness for Sarge with a pouch fastened on one side and an empty holster on the other. Loaded down, I make my way back to the garage with Sarge close on my heels as we walk through the house. Opening up the passenger side door of the truck, I toss Sarge’s harness on the floor board followed by my plate carrier. Leaning the seat forward, I slide my rifle behind the seat. Taking my Sig from its holster, I put it in the glove box before shoving the belt behind the seat with my rifle. Setting the seat back upright, I turn back to Sarge.

“Truck.”

I say stepping back as he hops into the passenger seat. I rolled down his window a little before shutting the door and I walk around to my side to hop in.

After firing up my truck, I put it in first and take off out of the garage, hitting the button to shut the door behind me.

“What do you think, rock or country today?” I ask Sarge. He looks at me then sticks his nose out the window causing the wind to make his mouth flap.

“Country it is.” I say with a laugh popping a CD in the radio. Not long after, I’m cruising down the one lane blacktop singing along to Charlie Danials as Sarge grins at me in the passenger seat. Life is good I think to myself as I drive down the road fingers tapping on the wheel to the beat.

“Hey Sarge, who do you think that is?” I asked pointing at a balck almost new silverado coming at us. I chuckle as Sarge starts to bark recognizing the truck. Pulling my front tire slightly off the road, I rolled my window down as my brother pulls to a stop next to me.

“What's going on, bub?” My brother asks his window sliding down. He's a couple years younger than me, but honestly, most people can’t tell who’s older of the two of us. When he turned eighteen, he had joined the Marines and ended up serving four years. Now that he's out, he keeps his hair cut almost as short as when he was in, making his blonde hair somehow seem darker. As I’m about to answer, he spits into a bottle he has pulled from somewhere revealing almost an inch of dark tobacco juice and spit.

“Aww not much bub, just enjoying this wonderful day off.” I say with a small chuckle. “I thought you were quitting that nasty habit?” I say nodding towards his open spitter.

“Well, I mean I kinda have.” he replied with a grin showing the half ring of dark tobacco in his mouth.

“So just no chaw at the house then?” I ask as I set my arm on the window.

“Pretty much, I'm going to quit completely, but that's going to take a while. Especially if Mike keeps riding my dick every time I walk in.” he replies with a laugh.

“Dude I keep telling you, it’s riding your ass not riding your dick. Riding your ass means he's giving you a hard time. Riding your dick means you’re fucking him. Seriously I know Marines are hard headed, but you should understand this by now.” I tell him as he starts laughing.

“Well, I mean twenty bucks is twenty bucks.” He tells me between laughs. “So what are you into today since it's your day off and all?” he asks spitting into his bottle again.

“Ah you know how it is, set my alarm on my day off because I’m a dumb ass.” I say before reaching over to rub Sarge behind his ears making his whole head shake. “Then Sarge here decided he wanted to go to the range so we loaded up.”

“You mow your grass yet?” he asks me as he pulled himself higher up in the seat to peer into the bed of my truck. “Fuck bub, how much ammo are you taking to the range?”

“Ok one, don't call me out like that, and two I told you I was headed to the range didn’t I?” I say almost defensively. I mean, yeah, I had loaded up a lot of ammo, but I didn't know how long I’d end up staying at the range.

“Before we head out there, I need to stop at you know where, pick up some water and treats for Sarge.” I tell my brother as my hand is still rubbing the big dog’s neck and head.

“What you mean Rural King?” my brother asks, right before Sarge goes nuts in the seat next to me.

“Why bub, why? You know how he gets when you say it out loud.” I say trying to settle the now overgrown pup in my cab.

“Sorry bub.” My brother says now laughing his ass off in his own truck. “I forgot how much he loves that store.”

“Forgot my ass, you’re just a dick.” I say flipping him off as I grin at him to let him know it's just a joke. “What about you man, what are you into today?” I ask grinn slipping off my face.

“Ah I got called into work, so I'm headed in now.” He tells me spitting once again in his bottle. When my brother got out of the Marines, he ended up getting a job in a chemical plant in northern Ohio. A few months after he got there, I got on at his recommendation. It is a far cry from the small town in Kentucky we both grew up in, but I’ve gotten used to it. It helped that I had essentially traded one small town to another. The only real difference being this town was closer to a big city, and close to a high paying job that made it easy for me to relocate.

“That sucks man, someone lay in on them, or are you working the overtime game right now?” I ask him glancing in the mirror seeing a small compact car turning onto the road behind me.

“Little bit of both, not all of us have bills that come to six hundred a month and can blow the rest of our check on ammo.” He replies grinning at me good naturedly.

“I told you new trucks have new truck payments didn't I? I also told you big houses have big payments, but you didn't listen.” I say with a laugh. We have had this discussion a hundred times since I got on at the plant. My truck was paid for and I didn’t see the reason to buy a new one, even when I got my first raise. So he had decided I wasn't living right and needed to dig myself deeper into debt like he did, thus my house. Including mortgage and all my bills, my payments rarely came out to over six hundred a month. I still managed to piss him off when he realized that.

“I hate to run off on you bub, but you need to get to work and looks like we are starting to block traffic.” I say as the car behind me comes to a stop. “When you get off, swing by the house. We can fire up the grill and open up a few.” I say pushing in the clutch and working the truck into first.

“Yeah, if it's not too late I’ll do that bub. Be careful, and don't shoot yourself in the foot.” He yells as he starts to pull away

“Fuck you too, bub.” I yell back as I pull away and head into town.

Less than ten minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of Rural King. With it being this early, the lot is almost empty so I park my truck up close to the front of the store. At this point, Sarge is jumping up and down in his seat. He loves coming to this store and because of that, he gets extremely excited. I lean over, rolled his window up, and locked his door.

“Now remember Sarge, best behavior or no treats. Understand?” I say as I open my door. Sarge waits ‘til I'm on the ground and looking back at him before hopping out of the truck to look up at me. It's as if he's saying, ‘see, I can be good.’ I laugh at his attitude before locking my door and slammed it shut.

“On me.” I tell Sarge walking into the store and grabbing a cart. Sarge takes up post a step back from me and one step to the right keeping his distance steady as we walk through the store, exactly like I taught him.

“They got store brand water on sale this week. How many you think we need?” I ask looking down at Sarge who has sat down next to the display of bottled water. “Definitely three huh?” I say stacking the cases of twenty four into the cart.

I start to whistle to myself as I make my way around the store. The cases of water are soon joined by three jars of all natural honey from the end display of an isle. A box of sixteen penny nails from the hardware section goes in, along with two five hundred foot rolls of black paracord thats on sale. Soon, Sarge and I are standing in the guns section of the store.

“Hey Joe, how's the world treating you?” I hollar out seeing who’s behind the counter.

“Ah not too bad.” He replies pulling a piece of jerky from his vest pocket, nodding to Sarge with it as if asking if it's ok. I chuckle before nodding yes causing Joe to toss it to Sarge who happily snapped up the treat.

“We just got in some Surefire mags if you’re interested. I hid some of the sixty rounders back here because I knew you were looking for them.” Joe says pulling three of the magazines in their clamshell plastic cases from underneath the counter.

“Thanks man.” I say gladly taking the three off the counter. “Everywhere I've looked they have been sold out, even online. I haven't been able to find them in stock.” I’ve made it a habit to make friends with guys working behind the gun counter.

“Yeah, those are the last three in the store. If you hadn't showed up today, my manager was going to make me put them back on the rack, but I knew you were looking for them.” He says leaning over the counter to scratch Sarge on the head, causing the dog to wag his tail.

“You can pay me back with some of that summer sausage you make when deer season comes in, alright.” Joe says straightening back up and reaching out to shake my hand.

“Deal.” I reply shaking his hand. “Hate to run off like this without staying to talk longer, but Sarge and I are hitting the range today and I’ve got some things locked in the truck I don't like being left alone very long.” I say starting to walk off.

“No worries man, I’ll catch up to you later.” Joe replies walking down the counter to help a customer who just walked up.

“Time to get some treats Sarge.” I say as his tail begins to wag harder. We quickly make our way to the pets section and we walk up to the big cardboard combo full of loose pig ears. I quickly pick out twenty of the biggest ones I can find, then I slide them into the clear plastic bag they supply for them.

“Ok Sarge, time to go.” I say making my way to the line of registers. Right as I'm about to pull the cart up to the open register, I grab seven of the large bags of banana chips up front. I love these things and the Rural King brand don't have any artificial crap mixed in to them.

“Hi, did you find everything ok today?” The cute blonde chick at the register asks me as I start to empty my cart on the counter. Her name tag reads Jen as I look her over. She’s cute, a little shorter than me and curvy in all the right places in my opinion. With a pair of green eyes peeking out from under her bangs.

“Yeah we think so.” I say shooting her a grin as she rings up my purchase.

“And who is this?” she asks looking down at the happy goofball standing at my heels.

“This is Sarge, don't let the smile fool you he’s just angeling for a treat.” I tell her as she reaches down to pet him. She stops just short looking up at me as if asking if it's ok. I nod yes and then she continues to pet his head.

“So he likes treats does he? Who's a good boy.” she says straighten up and finishing up my order. I slide my card in the machine as she tells me the total, choosing debit and punching in my pin. She motions to the container of treats at her station as she grabs my receipt. “So can he have a treat?”

“Yeah he can have one, he loves the ones from here.” I say as I load the bags back in my cart. Jen hands me my receipt and gives Sarge a bone shaped dog biscuit. Sarge happily chews the treat and swallows it quickly.

“Thank you for shopping at Rural King. Please, come again.” Jen says as I start out of the store waving back at her.

“What do you think boy, she's kinda cute.” I say to Sarge as I load everything into the back of the truck. Sarge barks at me sitting beside my door, mouth hanging open in his usual grin. “You’re probably right, I fuck everything up.” I say opening my door and motioning for him to jump in. “So how about some coffee and a breakfast, huh?” I ask sliding into the seat next to Sarge. Sarge starts barking almost immediately letting me know how he feels about the subject.

“Alright I get it, I get it.” I say laughing as I start the truck. I'm still chuckling at the way he's bouncing in his seat as we pull into the drive thru of the local fast food restaurant, its golden arches easily seen from the highway.

“Hi, thank you for choosing us today, what can I get for you today.” The voice screeches from the drive thru box. I wince at the volume of the box before replying.

“Yes, can I get three sausage and egg biscuits, two hashbrowns, a large black coffee and a small coffee. Only half a cup with the rest milk and a little whipped cream on top.” I say as Sarge tries to nose his way out the window beside me. Getting my total, I pull around to the first window paying for our food and pulling up to the second window.

“Be good.” I whisper to Sarge as the window opens.

“Three biscuits, two hashbrowns, black large coffee, and a small special coffee.” The woman in the window asks.

“That's us.” I say accepting the first coffee, placing it in my cup holder followed by Sarge's right after.

“Here you go, and have a nice day.” She says handing me my bag.

“Thank ya. You to.” I reply pulling away from the resturant and back on the road. As my wheels hit the road, I pull the top off the small coffee, Sarge immediately goes nose down lapping up his drink.

“Easy boy, it's not going anywhere.” I say with a laugh. Unwrapping one of the biscuits I put it on the seat with one of the hashbrowns. Then I start in on my own biscuit, taking quick bites between drinks of my own black coffee and shifting gears.

“Remember it's ok to eat out every once in a while, but you shouldn't do it more than two or three times a week. Right, Sarge?`` I say patting him on his shoulder as he finishes his biscuit while he eyes the second one I just unwrapped.

“Ugh fine.” I say unable to deal with his puppy eyes. “But just half, remember this was mine.” I say handing him half and quickly finishing my half and hashbrown. As Sarge finishes his food, he starts to finish off his coffee loudly lapping it from his cup.

“Next stop is the range. You ready boy?” I ask drinking my coffee as I start down the road heading out of town.

Ten minutes later, I pull my truck off the main road starting down the dirt trail back towards the range I use. It was built by one of my coworkers years ago. After he heard me complaining about not having one close by to use, he offered to let my brother and me use it any time. Since then, I'm pretty sure I've used it more than he has, but he hasn't complained and said it's all good as long as we clean up after. Soon, we are pulling into a clearing surrounded on one side by evergreen trees and the other on several large backstops on the other. Three trails lead through the trees to other backstops and smaller clearings. He really went all out when he built this range. It covers close to ten acres and is almost completely surrounded by backstopps, so you can shoot almost anywhere.

“Alright Sarge we’re here.” I say stepping out of the truck. “You can go run while I set up the plates,” I tell him, causing him to spring from the truck and take off for the treeline. I chuckle as I unload the targets from the jobsite box while Sargemarkis his territory and checking if anyone else is around. I quickly set up three of my many targets. One about twenty yards from the truck for pistols and two more about fifty and seventy yards away for rifles. Getting back to the truck,I toss out a thirty pound sandbag wearing an old shirt and belt. I Look around and see Sarge on top of one of the backstops nose in the wind.

“Come on Sarge time to gear up.” I yell at him causing him to run to the truck. He sits on the ground patiently waiting as I pull out his harness and strap it on him, making sure it's snug but not too tight.

“Ok, big loadout today Sarge, you ready?” I ask causing him to bark at me. “Of course you are” I laugh.

Pulling the ammo bag from the bed, I fill his pouch with the magazines for the beretta. I strap a small medkit and tournicut onto it, before loading the beretta and securing it in his holster.

“Good boy.” I say ruffling his head before standing. “Now stay while I gear up.” I say pulling my belt from the truck fastening it to my waist. I secure my Sig from the glovebox while checking that it has a round chambered first. I then pull my plate carrier from the floor board with a grunt before pulling it over my head.

One last check of my equipment confirms it's all in place. All the straps are secure and nothing is shifting. I slap each of the compartments to double check them one at a time. AR mags, C.A.T.S. tornicut, field knife at my right on my back, another on my left shoulder, pistol mags secure, and pistol secured to my leg. I slide on a pair of yellow tinted shooting glasses and orange earplugs before kneeling and putting in a set for Sarge as well.

“I know you hate them.” I say as he shakes his head. “You don't want to go deaf though.” I say making him quit shaking.

“First let's play retrieval. You want to fetch do you?” I say hyping Sarge up. I learned a long time ago, disguise practice as play and Sarge responds a lot better. At the word fetch, he starts to jump around, clearly excited to be playing again. I laugh to myself. This is why he loves coming out here. We walk over to the sandbag and I pick it up setting it on my shoulder then I walk it to within ten feet of the first plate. Walking back to the truck, I can see Sarge dancing in place. Yeah he's ready to play.

I take my place around the edge of the truck with Sarge on my heels, my left hand on his harness.

“Stay there we are coming to you!” I yell. Pulling my pistol, I let go of Sarge firing two quick rounds into the plate. “Low, low.” I make quick lateral movements while my knees are bent and cover the distance quickly to the sandbag, kneeling at random times to fire into the target again.

“Loading” I yell changing mags before covering the last five feet. “Sarge, fetch!” I yell one hand pointing to the sandbag. He darts ahead teeth latching onto the belt and starts to drag the bag towards the truck.

“First point, first point” I yell backing away still keeping my movements random and firing as if suppressing an advance.

Getting back to the truck, I see Sarge with the sandbag underneath him. His tail wagging as he looks up at me. He's drug it around the truck and positioned it and him behind the rear wheel, first position just like I taught him. I quickly snap off the last two rounds in my pistol loading a fresh mag, holding my position a moment before I relax.

“Good boy Sarge, good boy.” I say kneeling beside him scratching his ears roughly. I pull one of the pig ears out of the bed giving it to him as I go to reset the sandbag and collect my fallen mags.

Getting back to the truck, I start to reload my spent mags while looking over at Sarge who is enjoying his pig ear. Pulling one of the water bottles from an unopened case, I crack it open and take a long drink. It's not even noon and already the sun is beating down hard on me. If this keeps up it will top ninety degrees today. Sarge walks up tail wagging so I tip the bottle down letting him get a drink as well. He quickly lapps up the water from the mouth of the bottle as he swallows down the warm water. Laughing, I take another drink from the bottle finishing it off. What? He's my dog. I can drink after him if I want to.

“One more fetch then we will go for a run. Ok boy?” I say jumping off the tailgate. This time I step into the treeline, moving towards the target from a different angle. As I'm about to start the drill again, things get strange. I look up noticing the sky has darkened around me. Not from clouds, it's as if the sun itself just disappeared.

“I don't remember an eclipse happening today.” I say as Sarge starts to bark crazily. Suddenly, there is a bright light shining up from the ground. I immediately began to run screaming as I do.

“Truck, Sarge! Truck, truck, truck!” I have no idea what's happening, but I don't plan on finding out. The light is so bright I can barely see the outline of my truck ahead of me. My breathing is erratic as I push myself harder, my heartbeat is thundering in my ears. This is bad, I don't know what this is, but it's bad.

The light from the ground keeps getting brighter, I can almost see it now if I squint. It seems to be forming a circle with some sort of criss crossing lines running through it. I feel a bolt of fear running through me making me run faster as I realize it's getting smaller. Not just smaller but shrinking around something. That something is me. I squint my eyes harder, seeing Sarge scramble up into the truck. Just a few more seconds and I'll be there. I jump into my seat slamming the door, hand frantically searching for the ignition.Just as I find my keys still hanging in it the circle closes in on us, the light is forming a solid wall around my truck now.

I turn the keys, expecting the big block Chevy motor to start instantly. Nothing happens. There's just a faint click as I hit the end of the switch. “Fuck!!!” I scream as the light intensifies. I feel the world fading away as I start to lose consciousness. Sarge’s barking stops and I see him fall into the seat as my eyes start to close. “What the fuckkkk……..”