H minus 25.30
Recon.
I get into position early and scope out the kill box. There’s something going on – car park filling. I check my watch. 8.31 – some kind of pre-term meeting.
As they get out of their cars I mark ’em – one by one.
Pinky – Mr Perkins – dragging his sorry arse out of his shit Ford Focus. Still there then. I remember him – Careers. Fat lot of use he was. When I told him I was going to join the Army – he said ‘You deserve each other’ and laughed in a sarky way – eyes sliding to the rest of the class like he expected them to join in but they never did because they didn’t like him and were shit scared of me. Lost more hair I see but still wearing what he has left long and swept back – yes – give it a pat – and his nose stuck up like he’s got a smell under it. Those glasses flashing in the sun make a good target – I’d slot him through the right eye or maybe bisect the gold rims. I feel the twitch in my trigger finger, the itch to do it.
Suit No Tie Job – must be the Head or Principal. He’s arriving in a BMW and the rest of ’em all drive skips. He’s got his jacket slung over his shoulder – I’d get him through the phone in his top pocket – right in the apps.
Barney – Barney Rubble. We used to call him that because he looked like that character in The Flintstones. He’s running over to Suit No Tie – always was a brown-nose. Where’s the trackie Barney? He’s suited and booted like the head guy – must have been promoted. Still dyeing his hair. That little bald spot at the back – that’s a bull’s eye.
The little blonde one – English teacher – she was all right – pass on her.
That one too – PE bird. Used to fancy her – pass on her an’ all.
Not him though – bastard French teacher – knobhead. He used to say I was thick – used to take the piss. Definitely not passing on him – he’s slotted.
I’d forgotten how much I hated them.
Seems a waste not to take them down while I’m at it – all the little ducks coming across to be slotted – like the shooting arcade.
It’s a while since I had this much fun.