I could feel the letters carved into the stone at my back, capital O and an L. I could feel the Glock 21s in each of my hands. I could tell they were model 21s by the feel of the grips. I could tell half the bullets were gone from the one in my right hand by its weight.
The woman that crouched in front of me at an AR-15. She was scanning in all directions in the twilight as she whispered, "I can see why you sleep in cemetaries. No one ever comes in here, the parimeter are surrounded by an eight foot high spike topped iron fence, and there is a lot of cover. Even shelter if you dont mind sleeping in a crypt."
I could hear running footsteps. Even though they were almost 300 yards away. They were running through the street at the west end, not coming this way. She was watching them through the scope.
She whispered, "Sleep. I'll take the first watch."