Freak of Nature - By Julia Crane Page 0,16

asked, staring at Frank. He was a big guy—broad shoulders, a huge, muscular torso, and a neck as thick as a tree trunk. Kaitlyn had to peer up at him he was so tall.

Frank stared at her, but didn’t reply. He ran his hand through his greying goatee and he opened his mouth about to say something, but thought better of it and clamped his mouth. He wasn’t allowed to talk to her unless it was in regards to training. He turned his back on her and jerked down the target. “Let’s try that again. Only this time, left arm only.”

Kaitlyn waited patiently as Frank attached two new targets and hit the switch to send them back down the training field. He stepped away and motioned. “Two to the chest, one to the head.”

She nodded and got in position. Frank moved the targets this time, back and forth and side to side. She calculated the distance and squeezed the trigger. As the targets continued to move, Kaitlyn’s mind kept up with them as if they were standing still. Moving targets were so much more fun than stationary.

“Come over here and let’s work a few different drills.” Frank walked away, not bothering to check if she was following. Shaking his head, he shot back over his shoulder, “Before long you will be teaching me drills I’ve never heard of.”

Kaitlyn slid the pistol into its holster and followed behind her firearms instructor to the shooting box.

Across the field was a set of six steel plates in the shape of human heads, each about 8 inches in diameter and arranged side by side on a supporting stand.

“Okay, load and make ready.”

Automatically, Kaitlyn removed her pistol from its holster and locked the slide to the rear. She quickly checked the chamber to ensure it was empty, then removed a full magazine from her magazine carrier on her left hip and inserted the magazine into the pistol, the motion so smooth and practiced it felt natural. With a flick of her thumb, the slide slammed forward, loading a round into the chamber of the pistol. She then conducted a ‘press check,’ reaching underneath the pistol, pinching the slide, and moving it to the rear just enough to see that a round was actually in the chamber. Seeing the brass, she released the slide and holstered her weapon.

Standing in the shooter’s box, she faced the steel plates, hands at her sides and waited. Without turning, she knew Lucas was near. Sometimes he came to observe her during target practice. He never mentioned it, but she always knew when he was near. She liked knowing he was close by.

The instructor moved to her right rear, reset his shot timer and said,

“Shooter ready?”

Kaitlyn nodded her head once, affirming that she was ready.

“Stand by…” and then there was a loud “BEEP” from the timer.

Kaitlyn immediately drew her pistol and punched it straight out, arms extended in what was known as position four. She already had the sights lined up and on the left-most target before her arms were even straight. As she reached full extension, she pressed the trigger and then moved the pistol to the second target, using both the momentum of the pistol’s recoil and her own muscle movement. As soon as the sights were on the second target, she fired again, repeating the process a total of six times with a metallic “ping” punctuating every gunshot.

Once she was done, Frank barked, “Unload and show clear.”

Kaitlyn complied, movements quick. Reflexive.

“Holster.”

She shoved the gun into position and let her hands dangle at her sides expectantly. In the back of her mind wondered what Lucas was doing. She could sense he was approximately fifty yards behind her to the left. It gave her a slight thrill knowing he was watching her when she was in her element.

Looking down at the timer, the instructor raised an eyebrow and said, “Two-point-three-five seconds. Lets do that again, this time from right to left.” He reset the targets, and then went through the same series of instructions for her to ‘Load and make ready’ and ‘Standby.’ The timer went off, and Kaitlyn repeated her performance.

“Two-point-three-seven.” Frank eyed her as if he wanted to say something else, but shook his head instead. “Alright then, let’s move over to the next apparatus.”

They walked to another shooting box in front of three steel targets that were twelve inches square, three meters apart from each other, and ten meters down range. Kaitlyn stole a glance back at