Part 3
Kylie snuck another look at her watch. Only 11:12. She was getting better; she'd gotten through almost four minutes before looking at her watch this time. Burt sure knew his guns. But he thought she needed to know everything he knew about them and he was determined to cram it all in at once. It had been a long morning.
Finally he turned and picked up one of the rifles on the table beside him. Good. She thought she'd scream if he covered one more topic besides pulling a trigger on one of those suckers.
"Now we can move on to maintenance," he said. "Regular cleaning and--"
"Aaaarrrrrgggghhhh!!" She threw herself backward and lay staring at the sky. His face appeared in her line of vision. "Burt! You are driving me crazy!" She got up to face him, invading his personal space until he backed away. "I can't learn all this in one day! You're just supposed to teach me the basics! You've covered more in the past--" She looked at her watch "--four hours and 13-and-a-half minutes than most SWAT guys get in their whole lives!"
"You need to understand the principles of a firearm in order to know how and when to most effectively use it!" he said emphatically, scowling at her.
"Like making a jockey learn veterinary medicine before allowing them in the saddle?" Kylie challenged.
"Horses don't put holes in things!" Burt shot back. "You need to learn the basics before--"
"Fine! Do I have to learn them all today?" He only looked stubborn. She took a deep breath and backed away. "Look, I think you're going into too much depth on this for me." He opened his mouth to protest, but Kylie held up a hand. "I'm just a beginner, Burt. I've never even had a gun in my hand. This is too much to absorb all at once. It's all one big blur already and I haven't even touched a gun yet!" She threw herself down to the ground again in defeat. "Haven't you ever heard of The Big Picture? I know you're a sucker for details but... Dammit, Burt, some of us have to start with the highlights and work our way down!"
Burt continued to glare at her. This really was a mistake.
"Admit it, Burt," Kyle continued, "you're stalling."
He looked away. She was right. "Well..." He heaved a sigh and looked her up and down, considering. In weighing the benefits of giving Kylie fewer opportunities to make smartass comments against the dangers of giving her a gun, he thought he preferred the gun. "I guess you're ready to fire, then."
She jumped up and threw her arms around Burt's shoulders. "Yay!"
He backed uncomfortably away. "Try to maintain a little decorum, Kylie."
She just smiled, unrepentant.
"You'll learn maintenance after you fire," he warned. "And you will be cleaning the rifle."
She nodded eagerly, still smiling.
Then he reached for something in one of the bags under the table. Burt handed her a pair of yellow glasses and a package of earplugs like he wore. "Proper eye and ear protection," he announced. "Put them on. Keep them on."
She quickly slipped them on, still smiling. "Eyes and ears protected, check!" she said.
"You should wear a hat to keep flying brass out of your face, too." He gave her one of his Hawks hats to wear.
"Now I feel like a Burt!" she said with a smile.
Finally, he picked up a rifle from the table and held it out to her, with obvious reluctance. "The M16A1 Assault Rifle is a 5.56mm, magazine-fed, gas-operated, shoulder-fired weapon. Its maximum effective range is 800 meters. It is designed to fire either semiautomatic or a fully automatic." He paused to glare at her a moment. "You will be firing exclusively semi-auto today."
She took the gun, but he didn't quite let it go. She debated trying a tug-of-war with him over it, but figured she'd lose.
"Avoid at all costs the natural tendency to place your finger on the trigger when handling or moving with a firearm," he warned. "The trigger has one purpose: to fire the gun. If you are moving with your finger on the trigger and happen to stumble, fall, or run into someone, you could accidentally discharge the gun." When he was sure she held it correctly, he finally let go.
Kylie took the gun as Burt told her to, accepting his corrections as he gave them. He started going into the features of the rifle, but Kylie was busy reviewing the information she'd already been given. When he paused to take a breath, she interrupted. "Burt, you do know this gun isn't loaded, right? I mean, I can tell, from what you showed me earlier."
He half-grinned, smug. "I know."
She put her free hand on her hip. "Admit it, you're not going to let me shoot at all today, are you?"
"You'll get ammo when I'm satisfied you know how to shoot," he said.
She glared up at him. "Is that going to be today?"
"If you'll shut up long enough to learn how to shoot."
Kylie stared at him, affronted. "You told me to shut up. I can't believe you told me to shut up." Then she smiled and sidled up next to him. "I think you're starting to like me, Burt. Nobody ever tells me to shut up until they start to like me."
Burt just shook his head and backed away. "The target," he said, turning her around by her shoulders, "is over there." He cleared his throat. "There are various shooting positions: standing, kneeling, prone--"
"Sort of like the Kama Sutra of guns," Kylie commented.
Burt stared her to silence. "We will cover the standing position today, and if you can learn that one, we'll try the rest."
"'If'? I've been standing for years, Burt. I got it covered."
Burt looked away. He was getting a headache. He took a deep breath and told himself he could get through this. He'd stood up to more than one herd of shriekers, after all.
All things considered, he thought he'd rather be up against the shriekers.
"When in the standing position, you face the target..." He waited until she turned to face the targets he'd set up. "Good. This way, you can pivot easily without having to shift your feet, should the target move."
"As if those are going to move," she commented.
"Pretend it's a shrieker," he said. "Your next target could be." He took her shoulders and demonstrated turning to follow the target. "Your feet should be approximately shoulder width apart." She shuffled her feet apart an inch or two. "A little further," he instructed.
"Are we talking your shoulders or my shoulders here?" she complained, but finally had her feet in the right positions.
"Place the butt of the stock into your right shoulder so that the sight is level with your eyes. Be sure it's good and tight. And you'll want to hold your right elbow high."
She lifted her elbow level with the gun. "This is starting to be uncomfortable, Burt."
"You'll get used to it. See how that makes a good pocket for the stock? You'll come to appreciate that." He adjusted her left hand a little further down the barrel. "Be sure to hold the weight of the weapon with your left hand, not your right. And hold on tight. Tuck your left elbow close to your side to keep the muzzle steady." He walked around her, inspecting her stance, then nodded approvingly. "You'll notice you can reach the safety lever with your index finger as you hold the gun." He reached over and guided her finger up to the safety lever.
One of her long blue fingernails snagged on the lever. "Ow!" She brought down the weapon to inspect the fingernail. "Burt!" She looked at him accusingly.
"I told you to cut those," he reminded her.
She looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "We've gone over this before, Burt. Don't mess with the hair, or the nails."
"We won't be going any further today until you can operate the safety," he informed her smugly. "If you can't operate that, you won't be able to handle the trigger, either."
She sighed, flipping the rifle over and practicing with the lever. "Oh all right!" she said at last, and held her hand out to Burt. "Cut it off!"
He wasted no time pulling his knife, then took her hand and cut off the plastic fingernail. He started on the next one but she snatched her hand away.
"You only get one, Burt!" She looked down at her finger and frowned. "Now I'm going to have to have them done all over again!" She knelt down to scoop up the remnants of her fingernail and put it in her pocket. "Maybe I can glue it back on."
Burt put the knife away and planted his hands on his hips. "Do you want to finish this or worry about your nails?"
Kylie rolled her eyes, but put the rifle back up to her shoulder.
"To aim the rifle, you will need to line up the front and rear sights to create a 'sight picture'."
"We're going to paint?" Kylie muttered.
"This," he said, pointing, "is the rear sight aperture, and here," he pointed again, "is the front sight post. Look through the rear sight and line up the front sight in the middle of it. That is your 'sight picture'." He watched her struggle for a moment. "If your sight picture is unsteady, you're not holding the rifle tight enough to your shoulder." He pressed the rifle into her shoulder a little tighter.
"Oh! Hey, that's much better!"
"I'm happy you like it," he said dryly. "Now you'll want to point the gun at the target."
Kylie looked up and swiveled the gun downrange.
"The trick to aiming the rifle is knowing what your sight picture should look like. Picture vertical and horizontal lines through the center of the rear sight aperture. The top center of the front sight post should touch these lines. Your focus should be on the front post--the rear sight should be blurry."
"Got it," she said.
"When you acquire the target thought the sight, those lines should also center on the target, so you'll see your target as resting on top of the front sight. Do you see it?"
Kylie bent her head toward the sight, squinting.
"Don't get your eye too close to the sight," Burt instructed. "Not only will you put out your eye when you fire, you'll also miss. Keep your head at a natural angle and focus on the front sight."
Kylie straightened her neck and squinted.
"And don't squint," Burt snapped. "Practice keeping both your eyes open while you're aiming."
"This is getting awfully complicated, Burt," she said, becoming as grumpy as he was.
"I thought you said it was easy," he reminded her.
"They don't take it quite to The Burt Level in the movies," she said.
"This isn't the movies."
They worked at that until Burt was satisfied that she would probably hit the target without injuring herself. Finally, he took a magazine from the table and handed it to her.
"Yay!" she said, taking it. Then she looked closer. There were no bullets inside. "I don't think this is going to work very well, Burt."
"It will work well enough for you to practice loading and unloading the magazine," he corrected. "Remember to put the rifle on SAFE when loading and unloading--which you will check each time."
Kylie flipped the rifle over and looked. "It's on SAFE--check."
"Be sure the rifle is pointing in a safe direction," Burt prompted.
She looked at him blankly a moment, then realized the rifle's direction had drifted a bit closer to him than the target. She pointed it downrange and smiled sheepishly.
Burt nodded in approval. "Now cock the rifle by pulling back the charging handle," he pointed and Kylie wrapped her fingers around it, "and allowing it to snap back to the forward position."
She pulled, and another fingernail snapped. "Burt! Look what your gun did!"
He looked at the damage without pity. "Just as well," he announced. "I offered to cut them."
It was Kylie's turn to glare.
"With the bolt in the open position," Burt continued, a slightly smug expression on his face, "look into chamber to be sure it is clear."
Kylie tilted the weapon and looked inside. "Clear--check!"
"Now, insert the magazine until it catches."
Kylie slid the magazine in until she heard a click then smiled up at him.
"Now tap the base of the magazine to ensure the magazine is properly seated." She did and Burt nodded. "Good. Now, you must chamber a round. Press the bolt catch to allow the bolt to go forward... Good, now tap the forward assist assembly to ensure that the bolt is fully forward and locked." He watched her fumble with the rifle. "No, the other one... just there. Right. The rifle is now loaded."
"Ooh! Locked and loaded, just like the movies!" She smiled.
"Armed and dangerous, you mean," Burt muttered and cleared his throat. "Be sure the weapon is pointed in a safe direction," he reminded her, as the muzzle started drifting in his direction.
"Now," he continued, "for unloading. Be sure the weapon's selector lever is on SAFE."
"But I haven't touched it yet, Burt."
"Get in the habit," he ground out.
She tilted the gun. "Still on SAFE..." She tilted it back. "Oh wait, let me check again. Yup, still on SAFE." She grinned.
He didn't. "Are you ready to continue?"
She nodded.
"Press the magazine catch button--no, on the other side--right, and pull the magazine out of the weapon. Good. Now pull the charging handle to the rear... correct... press the bottom of the bolt catch, and allow the bolt to ease forward. Now return the charging handle to the forward position. Always be sure to look into the chamber and receiver to ensure they contain no ammunition." He waited for her to follow the last command. "Look."
"Burt, there are no bullets in the magazine, how could they get in there?"
"Look anyway. Get into the habit of doing it every time."
She looked.
"Now you can press the upper bolt catch and allow the bolt to go forward. Good. Now point the weapon at the ground and squeeze the trigger."
The rifle gave a dull click.
"Now it's clear," he said.
They went through the routine twice more, until Kylie could do it without being prompted.
"Now try it with this one," he said.
She handed him the empty magazine and reached for the new one with a sigh. Then her face brightened. "It's got bullets? Real bullets?"
He nodded.
She slipped the magazine into the rifle as she'd done before. "Shouldn't you be strapping on a bulletproof vest right about now? And maybe a helmet and... hiding in a bunker?"
"The thought has crossed my mind," he replied. "You are now ready to fire. May God have mercy on us all."
"Goddess," Kylie corrected.
"Right now," Burt said, "I'll take all the help I can get." He sighed. "Assume the proper firing position and prepare to fire."
She brought the gun to her shoulder, held her arms just like he'd told her, and slid her eyes over to Burt.
"Don't look at me," he said. "Look at your sight picture."
Kylie took aim, the barrel wavering uncertainly.
"Hold it tight to your shoulder," he reminded her. The barrel steadied. "When you're ready, squeeze the trigger." He took a prudent step backward.
She took a breath, let it out, and pulled the trigger. The rifle shoved into her shoulder and the muzzle popped up, but Kylie held on. "Ow!"
"I told you to hold the rifle tight to your shoulder."
Kylie looked over to Burt. "Did I kill it?"
He looked at her and shook his head. "Not even close."
She squinted downrange. "Did I even hit the target?"
He shook his head again. "You need to hold the rifle firmly, and make sure you're focusing properly on your sight picture. But you didn't flinch, or close your eyes, as new shooters often do."
"Point to me," Kylie said, dejected.
"Try it again, but this time, take a breath, let it halfway out, pause, and fire. And hold the barrel firmly."
Kylie did. She hit the target that time. She took one of the corners right off. She still looked crestfallen.
"Hold the rifle a little higher on your shoulder," Burt suggested. "Not that high, you'll break your collarbone." She tried again. "Here..." Burt stepped behind her and pulled the rifle tight into her shoulder, then held up her elbow. "See how the rifle fits naturally into your shoulder?"
Kylie nodded, trying to keep her position.
Holding on to her right arm, he straightened her head a bit, then reached around her and adjusted her left hand on the barrel. "Be sure to keep a tight hold on the barrel to keep the gun from jerking as you fire." Running a hand down her arm, he pulled her left elbow snug against her hip." Make sure this arm is tight against you. That will keep your muzzle from wavering. And keep your stance." He put one booted foot between hers and spread her feet apart.
Unsteady, she fell back against him. He got the slightest whiff of her hair. It smelled like spring...
He staggered back, then had to reach out to hold her shoulders as she continued falling into him. He steadied her and backed hastily away. "There," he said. "You see. A proper stance is essential. Be sure to, ah, keep your head erect and the stock tight to your shoulder like I showed you, and control your breathing."
"How come stupid criminals can do this and I can't?"
Burt just looked at her. Oh, the temptation...
She glared at him, daring him to say what he obviously wanted to say.
"They... get more practice," he said at last.
The corners of her lips curled up. "Good save, Burt."
They fired more, Burt keeping a careful distance, while pointing out an almost constant stream of mistakes to counter her almost constant stream of smartass remarks. They'd cleared three magazines and Kylie was hitting the target enough to get cocky.
"It's empty," Burt said through clenched teeth. "Clear it." Why did the girl have the hardest time just following simple instructions?
Kylie pulled out the magazine and held it up. "Okay."
"Clear it," Burt said, impatient.
"I did, all the bullets are used up," she said. "It's clear."
"No," he growled. "Clear it. Check the weapon for ammo."
"Burt, what do you want me to do?" she snapped, holding the empty magazine in her hand. "I have the magazine right here. It's empty."
Burt's anger-widened eyes met her twinkling ones a moment more before he suddenly snatched the gun out of Kylie's hands, aimed it across her at the ground near her feet, and pulled the trigger.
The resulting shot sent Kylie backpedaling with a scream. She landed on the ground and stared up at Burt with wide, frightened eyes.
"Now it's empty," he said, angry. He stood glaring at her for just a moment more, before gently setting the rifle on the table beside him. Without a further glance toward her, he turned and walked away.
He went to the cliff and stood surveying the valley below him for some minutes before his mind calmed enough to feel appalled at what he'd done.
He'd almost shot her! True, he'd aimed at least a yard away. He couldn't possibly have hit her, but he'd fired a weapon at her! He'd been tempted, almost, to get closer. He'd intended to scare her. He'd meant to terrify her. He'd wanted to see just that look of fear on her face. He wanted her to know this wasn't a game. He needed her to understand--
One part of him said he'd had to do it, to convince her that guns needed to be treated with respect. He didn't accept that. He only proved that he could ignore all the rules he'd just spent the morning trying to teach her.
He'd owe her an apology--and more. His behavior had been inexcusable. How could he have done such a thing? He didn't even know how he would be able to face her again.
He sat and threw pebbles off the cliff for a long time.
He heard her approach behind him. He should have turned, but couldn't make himself. Finally she approached him where he sat overlooking the cliff. She didn't say anything at first, giving him time to gather his courage.
"Burt..."
"Kylie..." They spoke together.
"No," she said, "let me say this." She knelt beside him.
He glanced at her then looked away. He deserved whatever she had to say.
"Burt... I'm sorry."
Her whirled to her. "You? But I--"
She held up a hand. "I know, I know. But I... I seem to have that effect on people. It's my fault. My fault entirely. I owe you an apology for the entire morning, I know it, and you know it. I just... Sometimes, I just can't help myself. Life is so much easier when you just don't take it too seriously." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I know that's not much of an excuse... I... I guess I fall into bad habits sometimes." She looked up at him, earnest now. "I cleared the gun. I promise. I checked it just like you told me." She gave him a brief smile and took a deep breath. "And I'll prove it to you if you'll just come back and teach me what I need to know. I'll do everything you say and I'll take it all seriously, if you'll just please come back." She leaned forward to put a hand on his arm. "I promise I will."
He looked into her eyes. It was the first time he'd ever had a sincere promise from her, he thought. Still, after the morning, he wasn't ready to trust her completely. "Why do you even want a gun? Some kind of... fashion statement?" Burt asked with contempt.
"Okay... I deserve that..." She sat back on her heels and thought a moment, really thought about it. "Haven't you ever been afraid, Burt?"
He looked away. "You afraid?" he asked at last.
"Every day for more than six months," she replied. "Have you got any idea what that's like?"
He took a deep breath. He knew. All too well. "Being prepared is the only cure to being afraid," he pronounced.
She nodded, walking closer on her knees, to lay a hand on his arm again. "I want to be prepared."
He turned to her, his eyes probing hers. "Prepared for what?"
It was her turn to look away. "For the next time some big scary monster flips my Rover, or some hairy octopus grabs my leg in a hole, or I fall off a cliff... and you're not there to rescue me." She looked back up at him. "Please give me another chance?" she said. "I'll be good."
He looked away but finally nodded, reluctantly. It was the least he could do after his own behavior.
She smiled, clutching his arm.
He turned to her. "But if I see even one example--"
"You won't, I promise!" She was almost bouncing on her knees now.
He stood and held out a hand to her, shaking his head at his own folly. He knew he'd somehow regret this.
Later, Burt thought the training was going well. Much better than the morning. He paced back and forth behind Kylie, checking her stance. "Remember to have a good, steady position with your feet shoulder-width apart. Make sure the stock is tight against your shoulder and the sight is level with your eyes. Your elbow should be high enough to form a good pocket for the stock and most of the weapon's weight should be on your left hand. Make sure your--"
"I'm doing all that! Now will you just shut up Burt, and just show me what I'm doing wrong here?" Kylie said.
Burt stepped away and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "'Shut up'?" he repeated. "You're telling me to shut up?"
She grinned. "Yes, and it means that I like you too. Now can you just show me this very serious gun stuff so I can at least put one hole in that piece of paper over there before I give up completely?"
He stepped over to her and pulled the rifle snugly into her shoulder. "You're hitting the target just fine. You have a hard time keeping this elbow up." He suited action to words and pulled her right elbow up an extra inch or two. "And you don't hold the muzzle tightly enough, which is why you're hitting high."
"So I should aim lower?"
"No," he said. "You should hold on to the gun. Now try it again and remember your breathing."
She fired and this time the hole appeared at the outermost edge of the center circle.
"Oh yeah!" she cried, pumping a fist in the air. He almost smiled. "So am I ready to buy a gun now?" she asked.
"No," he replied shortly.
"But, you said I'm getting good at this."
"No, I said you were hitting the target," he corrected. "You still need more practice."
"'More practice'? Just how good do I have to be?"
He looked off beyond the targets he'd set up, to some cactus struggling for ground space on the cliff. "You need to be able to shoot the flower off that cactus over there."
Kylie squinted in the direction he was looking. "What flower?" She squinted again. "What cactus?"
He stepped up behind her and pointed while she sighted down his arm.
Her eyes widened. "That's at least 100 feet away! No way! That's not even possible. I bet you couldn't even hit that!"
He reached down and took the rifle, brought it to his shoulder and fired, all in one smooth movement.
Kylie picked up the binoculars from the table and looked. The flower was gone, save for one ragged petal on the tip of the stem. Her eyes slid to him behind the binoculars.
"Any questions?" he asked, brows raised.
She put down the binoculars. He offered her the rifle again. Silently, an indignant frown on her face, she took the rifle and aimed again at her closer target. "Show off," she muttered.
Behind her back, Burt smiled. "Why don't we take a break for lunch?" he suggested.