From this higher vantage point, he could see the roads and trails for a long piece in all directions, and there wasn't another vehicle or person anywhere in sight. He quickly drove down into the little valley on the other side of the hill and turned the car around facing the way he'd come, being very careful to not get stuck in the loose sand and gravel. Then he hauled out the M-16 and the clip of 30 rounds he'd pre-loaded, cradled that familiar stock against his shoulder like a long-lost lover, and quickly fired off a short burst at a tall, dark-green cactus plant about 100 yards away. The cactus was uncannily man-like, the body about six feet tall with two arms stretching out and up. The first burst had been aimed at the middle of the body, and tore out a small chunk of flesh, leaving a gaping, ragged-edged hole Ranny could see through.
Ranny felt an almost sexual thrill at the experience of firing this weapon again after so many years away from it, and a tremendous sense of pride at his ability to still shoot so accurately. He steadied his breath and concentrated on his next shots, then fired off another burst which tore off the top twelve inches of the plant's left arm. Without pausing, he swung his gun to the right and fired off a burst similarly, near the top of the right arm. This one almost severed that part, but several strands of the tough cactus held so that the broken segment flopped down and hung there on that arm. Taking another calming breath, Ranny this time fired first at the right side again, cutting that arm completely from the body of the cactus, then swung to the other side and cut off the left arm. Exhilarated by his marksmanship and the tremendous feeling of power he got from causing such destruction at such a distance, Ranny emptied the remaining few shells from the rifle's clip into the body of the mangled cactus, stored the empty gun in its innocent-appearing guitar box, and drove nervously back the way he'd come. The whole thing had taken less than three minutes, and while he could happily have stayed there shooting all day, he didn't want anyone coming around to investigate the sounds of all that shooting.
That had been Ranny's only experience with actually shooting his new gun. Sometimes at night in the dark of his room he'd take it out and strip it down, then put it together, just to see if he could still do it. Sometimes he'd fantasize about having someone try to break in, or to try to steal his car, when he could snatch up the gun and blow the criminal away. But mostly he just had a good feeling about once more having with him the one thing he'd loved in his sorry life. He promised himself that he'd take another vacation to the desert some day, but he hadn't done it yet.