Chapter 13
"Careful with the trigger. Make sure it goes straight back. You're pulling still," Rusl growled.
Link lay atop a gentle hill, perhaps two miles from Castle Town, cradling a semi-automatic rifle. Rusl had spent the past two hours going over safety, marksmanship basics, safety, weapon mechanics, and safety with him and Desi. As the man talked and talked, the burning excitement that Link had first felt gradually decayed into dull boredom.
Then he finally loaded the deadly weapon, positioned himself on the firing range, and sighted a target.
The focus was instant. He was dimly aware of the biting wind and the faint tug of oncoming hunger, but the target, the weapon, and his breath consumed his entire world.
He exhaled. The target filled his vision, now, and as the rifle stabilized, his finger constricted around the trigger. A sharp crack tore through the air. The gun kicked in recoil, and Link set his sights back on the target.
Rusl sighed. "You're still going too off to the side. Feel it?"
In any other circumstance, Link was sure he would have grown frustrated long before now. As it was, he simply reacquired the target, exhaled, and squeezed.
"Take a break, Link. You're just training bad habits, now."
It was only Rusl's extensive briefing that prevented Link from trying to fire off another shot. You simply didn't ignore the man when he told you to do something with a weapon.
Link set it down and moved back to where he placed his backpack. Desi stepped forward to take her turn. It seemed that she had somehow also impressed Rusl since Monday. As she squeezed off round after round, Rusl knelt beside her, surveying the target with binoculars, and murmuring hints.
The way Rusl had explained it, marksmanship was the easiest thing in the world. There was more to it than just point and shoot, but only barely. Breathing, it turned out, would shift the balance of the weapon when you held it. And a small shift here made quite a big difference at a hundred feet. The trick, Rusl said, was to let out all your air the moment before firing. It would provide a stable base to make final adjustments.
After that, one detail remained, the detail Link just couldn't seem to get right: squeezing the trigger. As with everything, Rusl made it sound so simple: just move your finger straight back so it doesn't nudge the muzzle left or right. Link, apparently, was doing the exact opposite.
But there was no use in obsessing over it. The day was still young, and Rusl had told him to take a break. He sat down by his backpack and resumed reading his desert survival guide. He would get it, one way or another.
The sun had fully risen, though it did little to dull the cold ache that had gradually worked its way through Link's limbs. He lay on the ground, holding Rusl's weapon—unloaded, this time.
"It's a simple task," Rusl said, stooping down to replace the coin on the rifle's muzzle. "I almost think you aren't trying."
Link did not deign to respond to that.
Rusl stepped back. "Well, whenever you finally get it, that's when lunch is," he said.
"Aw, maybe you shoulda paid attention when Rusl was teaching," Desi said, somewhere behind him. He could almost see her smirk. She had just succeeded in shooting a one inch wide circle ten consecutive times, and would not shut up about it.
Link squeezed the trigger. The dime trembled off. Rusl replaced it.
"I don't think Desi will be happy about missing lunch because you can't keep your finger straight," Rusl mused.
"Wait, why would..." Desi began, before trailing off. "What? Hey! That's not fair!"
Squeeze. Drop. Replace. Rusl must have been staring at Desi the entire time, because she sighed and said "Yeah, life isn't fair. I get it."
"My point was that you're in this together, but I guess that works too," he said.
It was another fifteen minutes before he finally got it, and then Rusl made him stay down there another twenty until he could do it consistently. At the end, he was sore, his head pounded, and his elbows were almost raw from digging into the ground. Leaning back on his pack, he began to eat the sandwich he packed.
"Took you long enough," Desi muttered. He shrugged. So she was better than him. It wouldn't matter, in the end. Or shouldn't, anyway. Just good enough to get by, that was all he needed here.
Desi, however, would not let it drop.
"So, how's it feel to be beaten by a girl?" she said, in between mouthfuls of an apple.
"I mean, it's not really the first time," Link said, turning all his will to remaining polite. "Remember tennis?"
She stared at him. "Was that supposed to be a comeback?"
Link shrugged. "You shot better than me. What can I say?"
"Wow. You even make gloating boring," Desi grumbled.
They stayed at the shooting range until late afternoon. Link did not improve as much as he would have liked, but he was managing to hit the small circle in the center of the paper target more often than not by the end.
As the sun lowered, the two students dismantled the weapon and set about scoring the carbon residue off the innards.
"Of course, this is just the beginning," Rusl was saying. "You don't win fights by hitting paper targets at five hundred feet. And from what I hear, bullets aren't always effective on our enemy."
Desi snarled with an intensity that made Link sit up straight and stare at her. "What is effective, then?"
Rusl shrugged. "This is still new territory for everyone, and I'm not on the front lines. I do not think some time spent on hand-to-hand training would be wasted." He eyed them both. "Nor some weight training, I expect."
"Just give me the time and place," Desi said, fitting the tiny metal components back into the bolt assembly.
With her good mood all afternoon, Link had thought she had more or less reverted to her usual self. But once again, her voice was so cold, so determined, it was almost frightening. Briefly, Link worried that he was not taking his quest seriously enough. He shook his head and forced the thought from his mind. He was already working near as hard as he could; he would solve the problem in his own way, in his own time.
"I'll be in the gym next Saturday," Rusl said.
"Saturday's a week from now. What do we do until then?"
Rusl shrugged. "Rest. Study." He turned from them, gazing west at the sun creeping behind the hills, flooding the range with a soft pink light. "Be thankful for what you have."
The next Monday morning found Link standing in his driveway, waiting for Irene. He had waited each day of the previous week, both before and after school, to no avail. He was prepared to keep waiting as long as he had to. Irene would come around. Link could not say how he knew this, or why it was even important, but he knew that when it happened, they would both be the better for it.
On the bright side, he was getting very practiced at walking. He could now easily make it to school in under half an hour. Still not enough time to arrive on time for his first class, but the teachers seemed a bit lax on discipline since the war had started. It worried everyone. The Gerudo had pushed past Kasuto, the story went, and would control the entire southern province by winter's end, the way things were going.
He made himself watch the news each night, counted how many people died as the fighting dragged on. It was his job to stop it, somehow. He just wasn't ready yet.
"You gonna stand there like a lost boy scout, or are you coming?"
Link started. He hadn't even noticed Irene pull up. Beaming, he scrambled into the passenger's seat. "I knew you'd come back!"
Irene muttered something that sounded like "too damn pathetic," then sped off toward school. It would be nice to arrive on time this week.
"So, about the fight…" he began. Irene turned on him, snarling, as she brought the car to a screeching halt in front of a red light.
"Do you like walking to school, kid? 'Cause that can happen again, real fast."
He shut up for the rest of the ride. When they arrived, Irene told him she'd see him after school, and they began walking together to the front doors. He did not go in.
Why should he? He would sit in a building for several hours, learning nothing of value. At least, nothing of value to his quest. Surely his time would be better spent preparing. And if he could think of nothing to do… then perhaps it was time to head north.
Even so, he felt a strange draw to the building. He had to attend. He needed to do well in all his classes or else…
What? He wouldn't get a good job? If he even survived long enough to worry about that. Anju would be disappointed? He would have to leave sooner or later.
He stared at the school. He really should just walk away. Prepare fully for what lay ahead. He just couldn't bring himself to take that first step.
"Never thought I'd see Mr. Goody-pants not wanting to go to school," Desi interrupted. He turned to see her grinning behind him. How long had she been standing there?
He forced a smile. "I just can't help but think there are better things to do."
"Training?" she asked.
He nodded.
"So what, you just going to spend eight hours a day in a gym? Never thought I'd ever be the one talking you out of playing hooky."
He did not know when he had decided, but he knew in that moment that he had to tell her at least a little bit. She was Zelda's friend too, after all. He was tired of working all by himself.
"Zelda and I were planning something," he said. "I need to prepare for it.
Her eyes widened. Then, she grabbed his hand and was pulling him out to the small woods behind the school. He let himself be dragged behind, ignoring the stares from the throng of students. She pushed through the brush until they came to a small clearing, illuminated by a touch of sunlight.
"No one will bother us here," she told him.
"Wait, so this is where you are when you're not in class?"
She stared levelly at him. At last, he dropped his backpack to the ground with a sigh. And he began to talk. Haltingly, at first. But once the tale began to spill, he found no reason not to loose the rest of it.
If the revelation shocked her, Desi did not show it.
"So, when do we leave?" she said, almost as soon as he was finished.
Link blinked. "We?"
"Were you planning on wandering through an uncharted desert all by yourself? Even I'm not that dumb."
"I guess it would be pretty silly to tell you it'd be dangerous, huh?" Link said. When she said nothing, he rubbed his head. Now that she brought it up, there really was no reason to wait any longer. At least, not to get the Master Sword. Rusl's training was useful, yes, but he certainly didn't have time to become an expert warrior before he even started.
"We'll spend a week gathering supplies and double-checking everything. Head out next Monday."
Desi showed a fierce grin that Link was not entirely comfortable with.
"In a week, then."
A/N: I must make a brief apology. This story was not plotting as elegantly as I would like. With the current chapter, I found myself torn between tying up all the loose ends in Hyrule, or just pushing forward in the story. I believe that the plot really needs to be moving forward here. As such, there are a couple minor loose ends that (probably) won't addressed. I'm sorry I couldn't find a better solution. I did the best with what I had.
