Incident in San Francisco - Page 95/138

He had, though, had his thirst for guns refreshed by the acquisition of the M-16, and after he had saved up more money, contacted his source and purchased an unregistered snub-nosed .38, realizing that a small handgun was actually much more practical than a rifle almost 40" long. He hadn't yet shot that gun, but knew that his training and experience with handguns in the military would make him just as accurate with it as he had been with the M-16.

Now, sitting on the edge of his bed, his head throbbing from the alcohol, Ranny's disgust for how his life had been to this point suddenly overwhelmed him. His miserable childhood, teenage years, military service, and menial working life at the Cow Palace had culminated today in the fracas at the manure pile. To Ranny, the arrogant attitude of the Cow Palace president at the site and the disdain of the maintenance supervisor when he fired Ranny was the final straw in his life. He shook his head to clear it of the fog, and decided suddenly that he was going to change his life forever.

Reaching under the bed, he pulled out the guitar case. The M-16 gleamed as it always did, given its owner's frequent cleaning. He removed the clip and loaded it with its full capacity of 30 rounds, and also loaded a spare clip which had been thrown in with the deal. Laying those pieces on the bed, he rummaged in the detritus in the bottom of his clothes closet and found what he was looking for, a length of light rope he'd found at work and confiscated, thinking he might be able to use it for something, some day. Today was the day, and he'd found a use for it.

He held the rifle loosely at his right side, with it hanging vertically against his body, and estimated the length of rope needed. He tied one end securely around the narrowest part of the stock, just behind the trigger guard, and tied the rest of the rope with a slip knot at the same place, leaving a loop about 18 inches long. He slipped the loop over his shoulder so that the gun hung against his side, the butt almost in his armpit, supported by the rope. He suddenly grabbed the rifle in his left hand, with his right seizing the stock so that his finger was on the trigger guard, and swung it up against his shoulder in firing position. The loop was a little tight, so he adjusted the rope until the fit was perfect, then tied it securely and cut off the unneeded end of the rope.