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He wiped the dust off the polymer casing and reached for his ammo can. He had sixty more reasons to stay out in the sun.

The rhythm was hypnotic. Where his standard mags would have run dry and locked the bolt back minutes ago, the drum kept feeding. Twenty rounds. Forty. At fifty-five, the barrel was radiating heat like a radiator, the mirage shimmering off the handguard. buy drum magazine ar-15

That Saturday, the desert air was still. Elias snapped the drum into the magwell of his rifle. It seated with a heavy, satisfying thunk . He settled into the prone position, the extra weight anchoring the barrel against the sand. He squeezed. Crack. Crack. Crack. He wiped the dust off the polymer casing