Part 5
He pulled his Desert Eagle. "Hold out your hand."
"Ooh! I get to play with your gun?" She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. "I didn't actually mean to..."
Burt just sighed and looked heavenward.
"Okay, never mind." She held out her hand, palm up, for the gun.
"Not like that," he informed her. He took her hand and twisted it to the side. "Like you're going to hold the gun."
She giggled. "Oh."
He slapped the gun into her hand and Kylie wrapped her fingers around the grip. "A handgun needs to be snug against your palm," he explained. "This finger, however," he peeled Kylie's index finger off the grip, "should be on the trigger guard. You only want to hold the gun with the last two fingers. This one," he indicated her middle finger, "should only be resting on the grip, rather than holding it."
"Ah," she said. "So you can flip 'em off while you're shooting at them?"
Burt looked at his watch.
"Oh sorry, am I early?" she said with a grin.
"Yes, you are."
She sobered. "Sorry," she said, "please go on." But there was a definite twinkle in her eyes.
"You will also want to keep your thumb from gripping too tightly."
She looked down at the gun in her hand and wiggled her thumb. "How am I supposed to hold it then?"
He positioned her thumb properly at the top of the grip. "Positioning the thumb here will keep you from instinctively pushing the gun off target. And in a two-hand grip, you'll avoid losing a piece of your thumb when the slide moves back."
"Personal experience?" she asked.
He nodded, a wry twist to his lips.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You can aim a handgun much like a rifle. There is usually a sight, though some only have front sights and they're not like the M-16's. I'll show you some of the more accurate stances later and you can work on your aim. First, though, I want you to practice just pulling and shooting it." He rummaged around in another bag he'd brought and pulled out a holster. "You'll have to get your own, of course, but this will do for now."
Kylie set the gun carefully on the table--Burt would probably shoot her for real if she scratched the one he carried with him every day--and took the holster. It was nylon and had obviously been stored for some time, since it was wrinkled and only reluctantly unfolded for her. It had straps and more straps everywhere. She turned it this way and that, trying to make sense of what it was eventually supposed to be. "This is like some weird bondage gear, Burt. Help me figure this out." When he didn't immediately help, she paused and looked up at him. He looked slightly annoyed. Which was actually an improvement over most of the day. "What?" she said.
"Do you have to turn everything into a sexual innuendo?"
She grinned, going back to the straps and buckles. "Only about thirty-two percent, usually, but you keep handing me all the straight lines." She discovered a strap that looked likely and pulled it straight. "Ah-ha!" When she held it up, the majority of the straps still dangled. "That can't be right."
"That's the leg strap," Burt said, taking it from her. He quickly pulled the strap taut and straightened the holster. "I never liked this holster, probably why I haven't used it." He adjusted it slightly, and held it out to her. "This part goes around your waist."
"Not my waist," Kylie said indignantly, looking from the length of it then down at her hips. "Have I gained weight?" She looked back up at Burt. "That's too big, Burt. No way do I look that fat." She looked down at herself. "Do I?"
Exasperated, he bent down and wrapped it around her hips. Only when he snapped it closed did he realize what he'd done. "Of course, you'll need to buy a holster of your own when you purchase your gun. It's not always easy to find the right holster that really fits a particular gun, and women, especially, have difficulty finding a proper--"
"I'm not that fat, Burt," Kylie protested, breaking in on his long-winded explanation. She pulled the strap away from her waist. "See? Too big!" When she let it go, it fell to her ankles. "See?" she said with a smug grin. She pulled it back up around her hips and held it there.
"You can adjust it so it's tighter," he said, reaching toward the holster. He stopped himself. "Right, uh, there," he finished, pointing.
"Oh, well, that's all right then." Kylie busied herself with the holster while Burt talked about the different types of holsters. She got it as tight as it would go and even figured out the lower straps were to go around her leg without Burt's assistance. "Okay, all ready," she said, interrupting Burt's flow of information.
Burt handed her the gun again. "Put in the holster and take it out a few times. Make sure it doesn't catch on anything." Kylie did, but then she started trying to mimic the movie fast draws. "I think we've established a comfortable draw," Burt said dryly.
Kylie smiled and crossed her hands in front of herself.
"You'll want to chamber a round," Burt told her.
Kylie looked at him blankly.
Burt shook his head but mimed holding the Desert Eagle and pulling back the slide. "Like in the movies."
"Oh!" Kylie said, and did as he told her. "You know, Burt, I think I'm corrupting you."
Burt paused to look at her. "Yes, I think you are," he replied wryly. "If we can continue... What you want to do is pull the gun, swivel toward the target, and aim, all in one movement."
"And after all that's happened today, you think I'm capable of that?" Kylie asked sarcastically.
"Actually, yes," Burt answered frankly.
"Whoa," Kylie said. "I must be doing better than I thought."
"No," Burt corrected, "it's just easier than you think." He went to stand behind her. "Turn just a little bit due south," he instructed.
"And south would be...?"
"Left," he supplied. "Now, raise your hand, straight up, and point at the target." Her hand moved up and wavered a bit until it settled in the general direction of the target. "No, focus at the target, not your arm. Just look downrange and raise your arm until your hand breaks the line of sight." She tried again. "Better. Now try it again, keeping your elbow and wrist locked."
Kylie practiced this until Burt was satisfied that she was focused on the target. "Okay, this is easy..." Kylie said hesitantly. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is, now you have to do it with the gun. The same principle is involved, but now you have to pull the gun and aim it instead of your finger."
"And... I'm betting that's not going to work as well..." Sure enough, her arm wobbled and even Kylie could tell it wasn't pointing at the target.
"Now you feel off-balance, correct?" Burt asked.
"Yeah, that's right," Kylie said.
Burt nodded. "You should. Now you have to learn to counterbalance yourself for the added weight of the gun. You need to lean back just slightly--make sure to keep your center of gravity over your feet."
Kylie did as Burt said and the wobbling lessened but didn't disappear completely.
"You're fighting it, Kylie," Burt told her. "Just lift the gun, like your arm..." He stood behind her and took her wrist, letting her lift the gun, but guiding her arm toward the target. "Just like that. Try it again."
She reholstered the gun, then pulled it out, Burt guiding her arm. "Remember to compensate for the weight." He took her shoulder and eased her back just slightly. Twice more they went through the routine until when they had the gun aimed at the target, Burt said softly, "Fire."
Kylie pulled the trigger and a hole appeared in the target near enough to the center to even impress Burt.
"I did it!" Kylie cried. She turned her head and looked up at Burt, smiling
Burt smiled down at her, then realized their faces only inches apart. His smile dimmed. He felt the strangest urge to close the distance between them. He'd actually lowered his face toward hers a bit when she leaned back against him and cocked her head to the side, a puzzled frown dimming her smile.
"What is it?" she asked.
Burt shook his head, backing hastily away. "Nothing, nothing. I just... never thought you'd do it when we started today."
"I see," she said, an impish grin on her face. "You're just mad because I proved you wrong!"
She started giggling and Burt let her, disturbed at what he'd almost done. "You still need more practice," he said, busying himself with the remaining guns on the table.
"But you'll pick out a gun for me now?"
"You'll have to pick it out."
"Yeah, but you're the expert. I could use a little help there. A lot of help, actually."
He nodded. "I'll take you into Bixby next week."
"Early next week?" she persisted.
"Early next week," he agreed.
She jumped at him again and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He suffered it for a wonderful moment before backing away. "Would you at least put the gun down before you start doing that?" he complained, taking the Desert Eagle away from her. When she looked like she planned to embrace him again, he turned away to check and reload the gun, then busied himself gathering the rest of the weapons from the table.
"So why have so many guns?" Kylie asked. "Can't you settle on a favorite?"
Burt turned and gave her That Look again. "Different guns have different purposes," he said at last. "We covered that."
"Like what?" She could see Burt was about to give her that stupid look again. "I mean, why use, for instance, that rifle instead of that handgun?"
Burt nodded. "A rifle is better at distance shooting. You see, the inside of the barrel has a spiral groove cut into it, which causes the bullet to spin as it exits the gun, which gives the bullet better stability as it travels through the air, increasing accuracy. A rifle's longer barrel further improves stability, since it spins the bullet for longer. Extending the barrel also increases the speed of the bullet, since the gas pressure accelerates the bullet for a longer period of time."
"Oh! So that's why guys like bigger guns! And all along I thought they were just trying to prove how big their--"
Burt's eyebrows rose questioningly.
"Well, I thought... they were compensating for something," she explained with a twinkle in her eyes.
Burt stared at her a moment, puzzled, before comprehension dawned. "Hardly," he said dryly.
Kylie's eyes dipped automatically for one brief moment. "Good to know," she said, grinning.
Burt gave her That Look.
She shrugged. "Sorry. Habit."
Burt turned away, uncomfortable the conversation. He picked up a rifle and put it in the bag he'd set on the table.
"So, my question is," Kylie said, "do you really need that much firepower?"
Burt turned to frown at her. "Now you're sounding like Nancy. These anti-gun people seem to think that all guns will eventually be used to harm the populace. That's no more valid than saying a car or a knife or a fork will eventually be used to harm the populace. I don't understand why you people have no wish to be able to defend yourselves based solely on the preposterous idea that a gun might someday be used to harm a person."
While he continued in this vein, Kylie just crossed her arms and smiled, letting him talk. She loved it when Burt went into Rant Mode. He was so cute. "Burt, are we not here today because I want to buy a gun?" she said at last, interrupting him. "Doesn't that preclude me from being an anti-gun fanatic?"
"I am simply saying that the only way to be safe is to ensure that safety yourself. You--"
Kylie cut him off again, with a grin this time. "Yes, yes, yes... and I'm in complete agreement with you--strange as that must seem. I'm just asking what you need that much firepower for."
He looked at her, slightly puzzled. "Well... Nancy's always going off on one of her anti-gun rants..."
"Yes, she does tend to go on," Kylie said dryly. "I have a lot in common with Nancy, but I spend a little more time in the real world than she does."
"Anyone spends more time in the real world than that woman," Burt grumbled.
Kylie grinned in agreement.
That almost got a smile out of him.
"Okay, now that we've agreed on two different subjects in the space of less than a minute--one for the record books, I might add--tell me why you need, for instance, Betsy."
Burt was puzzled again. "'Betsy'?"
She nodded toward the table. "That one."
Burt followed the direction of her gaze. His Barrett .50 caliber. "Excellent for fighting graboids," Burt explained. "Maximum penetration, precision firing."
"So did you bring any bullets for it?" Kylie asked eagerly.
"You are not firing that one," Burt said emphatically.
"I know," Kylie said with a scowl. "I just wanted to see it in action. I've been known to watch, you know." She looked at him with the expression he'd come to associate with something that had a double meaning he didn't quite understand.
He just frowned at her.
"C'mon, Burt," she tried again, her blue eyes pleading. "You've gotten me all into all this gun stuff, so now you've gotta show me what it can do."
He regarded her a moment more, looking for sincerity.
"Please...?"
He shook his head at how easily she could get him to give in to almost anything, but went to the back of his truck and rummaged briefly until he brought out a ten-count box of very large bullets. He pulled the magazine from Betsy and began loading the cartridges from the box into the magazine. After handing one to Kylie, he picked up the massive gun. "This is the Barrett 'Light Fifty' M82A1 .50 caliber hard target interdiction rifle. A very precise weapon, originally designed as a sniper rifle, but it's too heavy to be fired accurately when unsupported. It is primarily used to take out vehicles and planes, hence, 'hard target interdiction'."
"I'm impressed," Kylie said, examining the nearly six-inch cartridge in her hand.
"You should be," Burt said smugly. "The Barrett .50 is semi-automatic, 57 inches, 32 and a half pounds, adjustable self-leveling bipod, with a ten round magazine." He took the last cartridge from the box on the table. "There are eight types of ammunition issued for use in the .50 caliber. The tips of the various rounds are color-coded to indicate their type. This is the M2 Armor-piercing round, identified by the blackened tip of the bullet." He held up the one he had to illustrate.
"You only put in eight."
He nodded. "Yes. The fully-loaded clip likes to jam sometimes. This cartridge was the standard item of issue for use in all .50 caliber machine guns. It was designed for use against armored aircraft, armored vehicles, concrete shelters, and similar bullet-resisting targets."
"You can take out a building with this?"
"I can put a three-inch hole in one," he corrected. "But perfect for Graboids. The average range of the M2 is 7400 meters."
"Whoa."
"'Whoa' indeed."
"Okay, show me what it can do!" Kylie was already putting her earplugs in even as Burt adjusted his own.
He brought the big gun up to his shoulder and leveled it at the target downrange. He paused a moment to look over at Kylie, who smiled eagerly back at him. He turned his attention back to the rifle's sight and acquired the target, slowed his breathing, and, almost reverently, pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The rifle roared and the target downrange that Burt had set up exploded in a thousand pieces, sending shrapnel rearward into the surrounding brush, and putting a very large hole in the cliff behind. A column of dirt above the hole slid from the top of the cliff and fell to the ground.
Kylie jumped up and shrieked in delight, grabbing Burt's shoulder. "That is so cool!"
Burt gave her a smug grin and Kylie smiled in return. They shared one moment of perfect understanding.
Then Kylie looked a little worried. "That, um, whole cliff isn't going to come down, is it?"
"No," he said, sobering himself. "I checked it this morning. It's quite stable."
She brightened, half reaching for the Barrett .50. "Can I fire it?"
"No." He unloaded the gun, slipped it into its case, and snapped it shut.
"Just one time."
"No."
"Please? I won't hurt it."
"No."
"Aww, Burt. C'mon..."
They arrived back at Burt's just before sunset and hauled the packs of guns down the stairs. Kylie made a game of putting the guns in their proper places, based on the outlines. Burt supervised and made corrections while cleaning his Eagle and the Barrett. She was right about half the time.
"You want a beer?" Burt asked when they were done, reaching down into his little refrigerator.
She regarded him with a puzzled frown.
"What?" he asked.
"Beer is for relaxing, Burt," she said. "You don't relax."
He grimaced wryly, handing her a bottle. "Actually, yes, I do," he retorted.
"Well, there goes my worldview," Kylie said. "I thought you just, like, plugged in at night and recharged."
He was back to giving her That Look, so she grinned and took a swig of beer, then turned and looked around the bunker curiously. "This is such an interesting place," she said.
"You've been here before," he reminded her, following her nervously around the room.
"Doesn't count," she said. "I wasn't really with it then, and didn't get a chance to be nosy."
"You don't have to be nosy now," he told her acerbically.
She stared at him. "You're kidding, right?" She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "Never mind. You never kid." She looked around, peering at the items on his workbench, and lifting up a gun cartridge or hammer. "It was different last time, wasn't it? You moved your furniture!"
"I sometimes rearrange for maximum efficiency," he explained uncomfortably.
She looked at all the equipment on the tables, which was still a mystery to her, and moved the computer's mouse when she got to it. The security system screen kicked in and she turned to Burt. "Are there guns trained on me right now?"
He looked at her strangely. "Of course not." Then his eyes turned thoughtful.
"Oh no," she said, "I've given you an idea. Note to self: Next time you come here, Burt's computer will be booby-trapped, so don't touch it."
"A wise decision," he said, and she grinned.
She continued around the room until she got to his small shelf of books and videos. World War II, mostly, as Nancy said. "Not a porn tape or novel in the bunch. Not even a car magazine. And you call yourself a guy." She shook her head. "This is a really dreary place, Burt. Needs some color. Maybe a plant."
"I like it the way it is," he said emphatically.
"Suit yourself," she said lightly, but she kept looking around speculatively.
He knew she was up to something and dreaded getting into the same arguments with her he always did with Nancy. He suspected she'd be a little more difficult to ignore. His watch beeped then and she looked at him inquiringly. "Sunset," he announced.
"Let's go watch," she said, heading for the stairs. He didn't follow, so she came back, took him by the hand, and dragged him after her.
He scowled at her but didn't resist too much.
"I've always liked watching sunsets," Kylie said. "There's something triumphant in having lived through another day. Especially here in the Valley."
"Can't disagree with you there." He took another swig of his beer.
"So what's on your busy agenda tomorrow, Burt?" Kylie asked.
"I installed a new Shrieker defense system that needs testing," he said. "It's nothing much."
"Your own design?" Kylie asked with a grin.
He nodded. "Government surplus parts, mostly. A few salvaged pieces."
"Sounds interesting," she said, watching him closely.
He shrugged then shot her a glance and took another pull at his beer. "You can come along," he said hesitantly, "if you want. It's not--"
"I'd love to," she replied promptly, surprising him.
"It... should take most of the day," he warned her.
The corners of her mouth started to curl up. "I'll bring my backpack."
"0700 hours?"
"How about 7:03?"
He nodded. "Don't be late."
"Oh, Burt? Just one thing..."
"What's that?" he asked, guarded.
"You aren't going to shoot me again, are you?"
He looked away. "Depends on how you conduct yourself."
She grinned. "I'll be on my best behavior."
"See that you are," he said as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and gave in to a reluctant grin of his own.