Lying on his stomach, Dean checked his watch compulsively. The grey digits stated 7:58. He held it up to his ear. Tick tick. His eyes stung in the cold morning air. He blinked tears away.
At 7:59am he stretched out along the branch, popping his back. Then he looked back through the gun’s sight. It wasn't much of a house really, for someone so powerful. There was an unpainted front door and one of those cutesy mats reading ‘I am not a doormat’. A pair of small red boots stood beside it.
Something tickled the hairs on his arm, sending a shiver over his skin. Ignoring it, he searched down the road for his second man. No sign yet.
He gripped onto the branch, legs dangling and watched helplessly as Nat biked up and rang the bell far below. In slow motion, Nat hid behind the house and mouthed the word ‘go’. The front door opened and the pock-marked face of Jayden Bennetts emerged.
“You ok?" came a yell. Dean looked down and saw Esther from school, peering up at him through the leaves. War forgotten, Dean couldn't help smiling as he climbed down.
The above is my shot at the Sunday Photo Fiction 200 word challenge based on this excellent photo. Have a look at the others and link up your own entry.