‘I don’t like this, it’s too quiet.’
The two men crept along a hedgerow towards an old farmhouse.
‘He’s sleeping off a skinful.’
‘What about his dog?’
‘Off chasing sheep. Look, stop fretting will you; there’s plenty of blood on the old bastard’s hands.’
They crossed a concreted yard.
The elder man glanced through a window and moved to the front door. ‘Anything moves, shoot it.’ He tensed his shoulder, drove into the door, then sailed backwards with the force of the blast.
Both men landed heavily, burnt, bleeding and stunned.
A sheepdog approached and licked the younger man’s face.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.