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"Aside from the weapon not being loaded, I haven't once aimed it at her."
"I know. But you shouldn't be clowning."
"You're right." To Sharon, he called out, "Maybe later!"
She yelled, "Chicken!" Then she took the can off her head, propped it among some limbs of a scrawny bush, and started heading in.
Dad grinned at Jody. "You know, I would never actually try a stunt like that. Not with a shotgun."
Sharon heard him and laughed. "n.o.body in his right mind would try it with any sort of gun."
"That's how Mike Fink murdered his worst enemy," Dad said.
"Mike Fink, King of the River?"
"Yup, the keelboat guy. It was a tavern wager. He was supposed to shoot a tankard of booze off the fellow's head, but he conveniently aimed too low and plugged him right between the eyes."
"Very clever," Sharon said. "Made it look like an accident."
"Not clever enough. Everybody saw right through it, and some pals of the dead guy ventilated Fink."
"Dad's a fount of useless information." Jody explained.
"No such thing as useless information," Dad said.
"I know, 1 know."
"Let's see what you've got," he said to Sharon.
She unzipped her leather case and slipped out a rifle. "A Ruger Mini-14," she said, and pa.s.sed it to him.
"Ooo, she's a beauty. Looks sort of like an old M-1."
"Very similar," Sharon agreed. "Different caliber, of course."
"I like that stainless steel barrel and stuff," Jody said. "And the wood. The wood looks great. That black plastic you see all the time seems so ... I don't know, cold and futuristic."
"Is that why you hate my Mossberg?" Dad asked.
"I don't hate it. I just can't shoot it."
"You'll have to try this one," Sharon told her. "Has a real nice feel to it."
"It might be a good idea," Dad said, "for each one of us to try out everything. That way, if we do run into trouble, we'll all have at least a pa.s.sing acquaintance with each kind of weapon." He turned to Andy. "Have you had any experience with shooting?"
The boy grimaced. "I wasn't ever allowed to even have a cap gun. My parents didn't believe in it."
Please, Dad, Jody thought. Be careful. Don't forget they're dead.
"A lot of people don't believe in guns," Dad said. From the gentle tone of his voice, Jody knew she didn't need to worry. "But guns aren't either good or bad, Andy. They're just tools. It's all in how they're used. If they're used properly, they can be a lot of fun."
"Which you're about to find out," Sharon told him.
"They can also be used to protect yourself and people you love," Dad went on. "I don't need to tell you about the evil people out there."
Nodding slightly, Andy caught his lower lip between his teeth.
"The only time you ever shoot someone," Dad told him, "is if that person is a dangerous threat to an innocent person. Even then, you only fire if there's no other safe way to stop him. And always shoot to kill."
Andy scowled. "Shouldn't I try to just wound him in the arm or leg?"
"Never," Sharon said.
"Jody?"
"What?"
"You tell him."
She sighed. "Always shoot to kill."
"Tell him why," Dad said.
"Because. If you go for an arm or leg, you might miss. And even if you do hit him there, the bullet might kill him anyhow. The purpose of shooting people is to stop them before they can do more harm. To do that, you need to put them out of commission. The only sure way to do that is to kill them."
"And how do you do that?" Dad asked her.
She smirked at Sharon. "I'm always getting this. The *drill.' It really gets old."
Sharon nodded. "Let's get to the shooting. Andy, here's the whole deal boiled down: if you have to fire at someone, put as many slugs as fast as you can into his chest. Empty your gun into him. If you're a really great shot, forget the chest and go for the head." She grinned at Jack. "End of lecture?"
"Good enough for now," he said. "We oughta start him on the twenty-two."
"But not yet," Sharon said.
"What?" Dad asked.
"I think we'd better find out if Andy actually wants to learn how to shoot. He was brought up in a family that opposed firearms. If he has any sort of moral objections, it isn't our place to force him into ..."
"You're right," Dad said. "I should've thought of that. Andy, how do you feel about it?"
"I want to shoot."
"Are you sure?" Sharon asked. "Your parents might not have wanted ..."
"Maybe I could've saved them if I'd had a gun," he said. "Them and Evelyn." His chin started to shake.
His eyes were hidden behind his new sungla.s.ses, but Jody knew there had to be tears in them.
Sharon took a step toward him before she seemed to realize that she held the rifle in her hands. A helpless look crossed her face.
Jody put her arms around the weeping boy. "It's all right," she whispered.
He tried to push her away, but she hugged him more tightly. His sungla.s.ses b.u.mped her neck and fell off.
"It's all right," she said again.
"Leave go. I wanta shoot."
"You can't shoot while you're crying."
"I'm not crying."
"No, that's just your sweat soaking through my s.h.i.+rt."
"d.a.m.n it!"
"Everybody cries," Dad told him. "You've got better reasons than most."
"If you ever get done," Sharon added, "we'll turn you into a regular Annie Oakley."
Andy choked out a sob that was partly a laugh. It gushed hot air against Jody's skin through the wet cloth of her s.h.i.+rt.
Chapter Thirty-eight.
Dad picked up the small, stainless steel Smith & Wesson. Andy reached for it, but Dad said, "Not so fast, pardner."
"More lectures," Jody muttered.
Andy shrugged. "I don't mind." He wiped his eyes one more time, then put his sungla.s.ses back on.
"This kind of gun is a semi-automatic," Dad explained. "Which means you don't have to c.o.c.k it between firing. After the first shot, it rec.o.c.ks itself over and over again until the magazine is empty. All you've gotta do is pull the trigger each time you want to fire it. That's what a semi-automatic does. A full automatic lets you fire just by holding the trigger back."
"And they're highly illegal," Sharon pointed out. "Possession's a federal crime unless you've got the proper permits."
"Which means," Jody said, "that only the bad guys are allowed to have them."
Dad grinned. "Very good."
She dipped her head.
"Let's get back to the lesson." He held up the twenty-two. "A little on semantics. Most people will call this weapon an *automatic' or an *auto,' but it's not. It's actually a semi-automatic. We just leave off the *semi' part to shorten the word and make things easier to say."
"Easier, but inaccurate," Sharon said.
"But almost everybody says it," Dad added. "Okay now, with an automatic or semi-automatic you've got two danger areas. One is the side port here." He tapped it with his fingertip. "Almost the instant you fire, the sh.e.l.l casing will be ejected. It flies out of here. It doesn't fall out, it flies out. Fast. The casings are bra.s.s and they come out hot. You don't want to be standing near the right side of someone who's firing, because it's easy to get hit in the face by the things."
Andy looked skeptical. "Can something like that really hurt you?"
"Might put out yer eye," Jody said, trying to sound like an old geezer.
"Just keep your sungla.s.ses on," Sharon told him. "Twenty-two sh.e.l.ls mostly do nothing more than sting your cheek. But you get hit by a big one, it can hurt pretty bad and even cut you."
"A flying sh.e.l.l isn't gonna be lethal," Dad said, "but any sensible person tries to avoid pain. So keep your distance from ejection ports. If somebody's firing a revolver, you don't need to worry about it. Revolvers don't spit out their spent sh.e.l.ls."
"Okay."
"But it doesn't matter," Jody added, "because we don't have any revolvers with us."
"It's worth pointing out, anyway," Sharon said.
"Much obliged," Dad told her. "Now, the other danger area is in front of the muzzle."
"Jeez, Dad. Isn't that just slightly obvious?"
"You've been known to get sloppy about it yourself, young lady."
"Me?"
"Here's the thing, Andy. Everybody knows the muzzle is dangerous. It's where the bullets come out. But some people seem to forget about that when they aren't actually aiming and ready to fire. You've always got to be aware of where your muzzle is pointing-when you're walking with your weapon, when you're just holding it and doing nothing special, and especially when you're busy reloading it." He turned his head to Jody. "Paying attention?"
"Yes, Father."
"Always a.s.sume there's a live round in the chamber and that it'll go off when you least expect it."
"And," Sharon said, "make sure there isn't a round in the chamber when you don't want one there."
"The main rule is ... Jody?"
"Never point your gun at anybody you don't intend to shoot."
"Very good."
Sharon smiled at her. "He really has drummed this stuff into you."
"Tell her why," Dad said.
"A safe shooter is a happy ..." She suddenly felt cheap making cracks about it. "He wants me to be able to protect myself and also to know enough so I don't get hurt by accident. It's sort of like when he made me take swimming lessons."
Dad's head moved up and down very slightly. He whispered, "That's right."
n.o.body else spoke.