Page 50 of Bound By Water
We tense in anticipation, but he shakes his head. “Stand down. Today, I’ll teach you the basics: how to load the gun, grip the gun, position yourself into the proper shooting stance, how to distribute your weight, flip off the safety, sight your target, breathe properly, pull the trigger, and safely set the gun down when you’re finished. Take this seriously. If anyone fucks around or doesn’t listen, you’ll be dropped from my class. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” we state firmly.
He gives us a pleased nod. “Good to know you’re capable of learning. Now, I’m going to demonstrate each of the basics, then I’ll call you up one at a time and have you walk through each step. You will shoot one time. That’s it.”
For the next twenty minutes, we watch Jax demonstrate each of the basics. Using exaggerated movements, he shows the position we should take for each step several times. There’s much more to shooting than I ever thought, and I doubt I’ll remember it all. Biting my lip, I try to concentrate on memorizing the first couple of stances.
The guy next to me snorts, but thankfully, Jax doesn’t hear it. “Overkill.”
“I know you won’t remember half the shit I just told you, but try your best,” Jax says, finishing his demonstration. “First up, Overkill.”
My lips twitch when I look to my right. Guess he heard him. Note to self—Sergeant Jax has Whisper 2000.
The guy stiffens but walks over to the booth. Jax motions for him to begin, and he immediately grips the gun and raises it to fire. He shoots, and the second his arm comes down, Jax pushes him off balance, grabs the gun from his hand, and mock shoots him.
“Bang. You’re dead.”
“I already know how to shoot!” the guy shouts from the ground. “I shouldn’t have to follow all the steps.”
Jax flashes a dark grin. “In my class, you’ll do what I tell you, when I tell you, got it?”
The guy flashes him a sulky look. “That’s not fair. Is there an advanced class I can take?”
“Do you think Raven will be ‘fair’? What about a scared civilian who thinks you’re a threat to his town? Think they will be fair?” He looks at the target and scoffs. “You didn’t even hit your target, and you think you’re ready for an advanced class. Get back in line.”
“I’m an excellent shot,” the guy insists, getting to his feet. He stomps over to the booth and holds down the button on the wall. The target flies toward him and stops. Grabbing it, he pulls it closer, then curses.
Jax claps him on the back. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to give you extra lessons. Get back in line.”
The guy ambles back to his place beside me, muttering the entire way.
“You,” Jax says, pointing directly to me. “Booth.”
I walk up to the booth and stare at the gun in front of me instead of him. He’ll only make me nervous, and I’ll forget the positions. When I hear “Begin!” I pick up the gun and almost drop it. I didn’t expect it to be so heavy. It looked like a toy in Jax’s hand, but the weight tells me it’s very real. I make the “v” he suggested for the grip with four fingers on one side of the gun and my thumb on the other and place my other hand under for support. Squaring my shoulders and torso toward the target, I get my feet into the staggered position he suggested and stop. I can’t remember what to do next.
He leans in close, and the smell of sunshine and a slightly acrid, smoky scent, which I’m guessing is from shooting earlier, wraps around me. “Put your finger here.” He places my finger on the trigger in the correct position.
I frown and turn my head to look at him. Piercing ocean-blue eyes, only inches away, meet mine, and for a second, I get lost in their clear depths.
Inhaling sharply, I spit my question out. “Shouldn’t I wait until I’m ready to fire to put my finger on the trigger?”
“Mm, rain on a summer day,” he murmurs, then steps away to ask the crowd. “Good question. She asked whether she should wait to put her finger on the trigger. Anyone have the answer?”
Blushing at both his words and getting called out in front of everyone, I wait for someone to answer. A young female voice pipes up. “Only pick up the gun if you’re prepared to shoot. With your finger on the trigger, you eliminate the time between prep and shot.”
“Very good!” he exclaims. “You’ve earned a reward point and jumped to the top of the class.” Turning back to me, he sees my finger still on the trigger. “What’s next?”
I release the safety, then lean slightly forward and align my sights. Stopping, I wait for him to put the ear protection over my ears. Since this is our first time, he didn’t want us to put them on until we were actually ready to shoot.
He picks up the headphones, smooths my hair, places them on my head, then taps my right shoulder, the signal to shoot when ready.
Breathing in and out a few times to clear my head, I try to steady my trembling hands and pull the trigger. When I shoot, a small force pushes back on me, but the recoil isn’t too bad. Carefully, I put the safety back on, set the gun down on the booth, and take off the headphones. My stomach is cramping from nerves.
He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about bringing in the target. You missed.”
My shoulders drop, and I return to the line while he calls the next person. A young woman strides up to the booth, and she’s so confident, I have to wonder if she’s the one who received the reward point. Her long, blond ponytail swings jauntily as she walks. In leggings and a grey sweatshirt, she stands out from the rest of us. I’m jealous. Not just because of her attire, although I’m very envious of those leggings. She seems utterly relaxed.
The second she picks up the gun, her experience is obvious. Her comfort with the weapon and each position is clear. She flows smoothly from one step to the next, then shoots.
