Lucas. He lifted his hand and waved. She felt her fake heart flutter.
“This drill is called ‘El Presidente.’ I want you to have two magazines of six rounds each. Face ‘up range,’ back to targets, hands at your sides. On the buzzer, you’ll turn, draw, and engage each target with two rounds before indexing to the next target. Upon slide lock, conduct a magazine change, then re-engage targets in the opposite direction, again with two rounds each. Any questions?”
Having none, Kaitlyn didn’t say anything as she started setting up her magazines per instructions. Once that was done, the instructor went through the range commands again, and then the buzzer sounded.
BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM… click click, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM.
“Unload and show clear. Holster. Three-point-nine-five seconds. That’s…” he paused to self-censor himself, ”… unheard of. Let’s try that strong-hand only.”
She continued to shoot the various drills the instructor set-up and explained. Each time, unknown to Kaitlyn, she performed at a world class level, something that took competition shooters years of practice and hundreds of thousands of rounds. She did it all without question, without hesitation, and with near-perfect precision.
As they finished, the instructor said. “Maybe I can get the docs to wire me up….” He grinned and shook his head.
Kaitlyn stared at him expressionless.
“Okay, we’re done here.” Frank took off his ear protection. “Clean your piece and put it in the safe.”
She nodded and broke down the gun. She turned to the left and watched as Lucas walked back towards the lab without a word to her—as usual.
Chapter Eight
The next day the door to the lab opened, and Quess peeked around the corner. Kaitlyn had never seen Quess in the lab. “Gramps, can Kaitlyn come out with me? Please?”
Professor Adams glanced at the clock on the wall. “You know you’re not supposed to come in here, Quess.”
Professor Adams had strict rules about who could be in the lab and for what reasons. Kaitlyn knew whatever had brought her young friend there must have been important.
Quess shrugged and entered the room. “I’m bored, and it’s your lunch time, anyway. I already ate with Nanny. She wanted me to bring you the leftovers.” She handed him a plate that was covered in foil.
“Fine, we’re done for now. But make sure she’s back in an hour.” The professor’s wrinkled face softened into a smile. Anyone else would have been thrown out for stepping foot into his sacred space without asking, but his granddaughter had always been an exception.
The professor peeled off the bio-rhythmic cuff and released Kaitlyn’s arm from the monitor. She stood, happy to have a reason to leave the stuffy room.
Quess pulled her sweater tight over her chest and looked Kaitlyn over. “It’s cold outside.”
“It’s sixty-one degrees,” Kaitlyn said matter-of-factly.
Quess eyed at Kaitlyn’s long, bare legs. “You should put on some clothes.”
“I have on clothes.”
Quess sighed. “Fine. Don’t blame me if you get a cold.”
Professor Adams laughed and chucked her chin. “Quess, she can’t get a cold. You know that.”
“How could I forget? You made her non-human,” Quess snapped.
“I’ve heard enough from you, young lady.” The professor’s playful tone evaporated and his voice brokered no argument. “We’ve been over this many times before. Now you hurry along before I change my mind.”
Kaitlyn watched the exchange with interest. She found it curious that Quess would argue with her grandfather over her.
Without another word, Quess turned on her heels in a huff and stalked from the room. Kaitlyn trailed after her.
Quess banged through the metal doors and into the bright sunshine outside, where they walked in silence until they were at a safe distance from the building and cameras. Kaitlyn watched as the wind gently stirred the leaves around them.
“You wasted a perfectly good opportunity, you know,” Quess finally spoke up, clearly irritated. “I can’t believe you didn’t grill them more at dinner. We could have found out something about your past.”
A cursory scan told Kaitlyn that Quess’s little round face was pinched and annoyed. The girl’s heart rate was also elevated, showing signs of distress.
Kaitlyn smiled. “We gained significant information. How many states do not show signs of season changes?”
Quess stopped in her tracks and turned slowly, her frown turning into a grin. “How many?”
Pulling up the file she had saved to her memory drive the evening before, Kaitlyn said, “Florida, Nevada, Arizona, California and Louisiana are a starting point. Should that help in your search?”
“Definitely. I wish you could come home with me to the cottage.” Quess sighed.