Page 48 of Gunslinger Girl
“Put those away!” Max snapped. “Or she won’t be able to hit anything.”
“I’m trying to help. Look at how pale she is.”
Pity waved them both away. “I’m just nervous.” She rechecked the cylinders in her guns for the hundredth time. Full. She carried more ammo, but not as much as she would have liked. Every shot counted. Widmer knew how many bullets she had; he would keep track, and she wouldn’t run out… she hoped.
“Not to add to that nervousness”—Luster shifted from foot to foot, tiny ankles angling precariously in her high heels—“but so you know, Miss Selene is in the audience tonight.”
Pity’s gut twisted.
She’s come to judge.
I can’t do this.
I have to do this.
Backing out wasn’t an option. A new act in the Theatre Vespertine was no small event—Halcyon had made that very clear. Announcements had been made; the word spread through the city and its web of associations. There were hundreds of eager bodies above her head, enticed by Scylla but really waiting for her and for whatever she had to show them.
It’s not so hard. That’s what her mother had said to her, back in the days when Pity missed more shots than she landed. But handgun or rifle, whether they were aiming at practice targets or live game, her mother had always said the same thing: Stay calm. Sight your target.
Inhale, aim. Exhale, shoot.
Pity raised one of her guns and pressed the cold steel to her forehead. Momma, if you’re listening, help me shoot straight. She laughed nervously as she holstered the weapon.
“What?” said Eva.
“I was thinking about my mother. I doubt this is what she had in mind when she taught me how to handle a gun.” Then again, Pity thought, her own talent for it didn’t get her where she expected, either.
Widmer buzzed by them. “Saddle up,” he called. “Scylla is almost finished.”
“Good luck.” Luster gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be watching from the stands.” She ran off.
“And I’ll be watching from here,” said Max.
Pity took a deep breath and let it out, trying to exhale the apprehension smothering her from within. “What if I—”
Max took Pity’s hands in his. “This is nothing,” he said quietly.
She shook her head. “This is everything. I’ve already lost that once. I don’t know if… if I can…” She trailed off, overcome by the truth of the words. She stared at her fingers entwined with Max’s. I don’t want to lose any more.
I don’t want to lose this.
“I mean that this is nothing for you. Remember when you took that second shot at me, when we found you? You were beat half to death. But when you raised that gun and I saw the look in your eyes, I thought, ‘This girl doesn’t miss twice.’”
“But I did miss.”
“Only because of Olivia. Even so, I felt the wind of that bullet on my cheek.” He gave her a loose hug. “You weren’t going to miss then, and you’re not going to miss tonight.”
A smile spread on her face, one she was powerless to stop. “Thank you, Max.”
As he released her, Widmer reappeared.
“Scylla is clear,” he said. “It’s time.”
With a final glance at Eva and Max, she followed the engineer into the dim tunnels that crisscrossed beneath the arena floor. Scylla sauntered by, a python hanging lazily about her bare shoulders. “Good luck,” she said in a way that sounded entirely contrary.
Widmer led Pity to a round platform. “Stand here,” he instructed. “Halcyon will do his introduction and—well, you know it by now.” He clapped a hand on her arm and ran off to get into his own position.
Halcyon’s voice rang out from above, his words muted but clear. “Now, a treat! Tell me, Cessation, do you want to see something new?”
