Alexia pulled into the service bay at the back of Premium Deluxe Motorsport, a flashy, neon-tinted façade in the heart of the city. She saw the man she presumed to be Simeon, stumbling out from behind a garage door. She and Damien shut off their engines and climbed out of the stolen cars to greet their benefactor.
"There they are!" Simeon approached them laughing, his arms outstretched. "Thank you, my girl! I trust the job was not too difficult?"
Alexia shook her head, her eyes fixed toward the ground. "There's, um…some bullet holes in the Super Diamond. Sorry."
"Ah, I see." Simeon dropped his arms. "Well, I would normally deduct one's pay for a repair such as that, but for this one time, I shall be generous. You will get the full five thousand – just be careful with the next cars you bring me, yes?"
She smiled. "Th-thank you, sir."
"Of course! And who is this fine young man you've brought with you?"
"Damien. Nice to meet you, sir." Damien reached out a hand, which Simeon clasped eagerly in both of his own. He was eyeing Damien like a prized pig, someone he could easily make money off of.
"Something tells me you are professional," said Simeon. "You have done repossessions before, my boy?"
"Sure, here and there." Damien shrugged. "But I prefer killing people. It pays a lot better."
"Ha, haha…" Simeon trailed off, dropping Damien's hand. "Well, the Skulls are very prolific in that, if nothing else. Tell Remus Knight he is always entitled to a discount here, yes?"
"That would be excellent, sir."
Alexia was amazed; Damien had managed to intimidate Simeon with only a few short words. Whether that was via the Skulls' infamy or his natural charisma, Alexia didn't know. But if she were by herself, she wondered if Simeon would have tried to rip her off?
She didn't have time to think about this. Soon, she was holding a hefty stack of hundred-dollar bills in her hand, courtesy of Simeon. She took a moment to cherish the money's weight pressing into her palm; it was definitely the most money she'd ever held all at once. Even if she'd had to work for such a paycheck, the sight of this much money was a welcome sight, a sign that soon she would be out of poverty for the first time in her life.
Wait, hold on…Do I really deserve all of this?
She looked up at Damien, who was casually counting through his own stack of money. She knew he'd led her through the entire mission, practically dragging her by the arm at some points. He'd come up with a strategy, had unlocked both of the cars, and had led the way in escaping the cops. By all accounts, he'd done most of the work, so she wondered if he deserved a larger share.
As Simeon bade them goodbye and closed the garage to his dealership, Alexia went through her own stack of cash, separating it in half.
"H-Hey, Damien?"
"Yeah?" Damien looked over at her, and his eyebrows lifted; Alexia was offering him half of her paycheck, a full twenty-five-hundred dollars.
She swallowed. "I, um…I feel like you deserve this, for leading me through the mission. I mean, you got us through it all, the gunfire, the cops, while I just…"
Damien nodded and reached out his hand. Alexia stepped forward to give him the cash, but her arm was immediately shoved back by Damien.
"What's wrong with you, kid?" he asked her. "You're just gonna let me take your money like that?"
"I-I…"
Damien shook his head. "I'm not taking that – it's yours. You shouldn't be offering your paychecks to extra guns."
"You're not an extra gun," she countered.
"You called me to help, didn't you? So yeah, I kind of am." Damien's eyes narrowed. "Keep the money. I'm not asking you again."
Alexia looked toward her feet; she withdrew her arm, securing her paycheck in her purse. Considering her feelings for him, Damien's disapproval felt like a shot in the gut. She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes fixed on the filthy concrete.
Damien leaned against a wall of the dealership. "There's an Ammu-Nation right next door. What do you say we go to their shooting range, maybe buy you another gun?"
"I…S-Sure, yeah."
"Kid, look at me."
Alexia's eyes had moistened, and she knew he'd noticed; she looked up at Damien, who was offering her his hand. She took it, his grip feeling like a warm embrace against her much smaller hand.
"C'mon. We don't have to talk if you don't want to, but the range is a good place to blow off steam. I think you'll like it."
She nodded in silent agreement. At that moment, she wasn't in the mood for an argument.
Alexia walked beside him down Adam's Apple Boulevard, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist. From the brief time she'd known Damien, Alexia could tell he wasn't the troubled emotional type, like she was. Instead, he seemed like the type of person who absorbed themselves in work to forget his troubles. With this attitude, it wasn't hard to see how he'd become one of her uncle's top men.
He should be the one leading the crew, not me, Alexia thought.
Damien pushed open the red metal door, and Alexia followed him inside. They were greeted by a spectacled man behind the glass counter, who waved amiably at the pair as they entered.
"How y'all doing?"
"We're alright, man," Damien answered. "Just looking to get this little lady outfitted."
"Well, you've come to the right place. Take a look around, see what you like."
Alexia was frozen on the spot. Simply put, she was in her own version of Heaven: guns, guns, and more guns. There were handguns, long guns, submachine guns, rifles and shotguns, breechloaders and muzzleloaders, double-action and bolt-action, rocket launchers and grenade launchers. All shiny and immaculately polished, beckoning to her like vendors at a street carnival.
She was slack-jawed, staring up at the massive display wall behind the clerk. Ultimately, Damien had to push her up to the counter so she could get a closer look.
"Uh…you alright, ma'am?"
Alexia blinked, looking bashfully away from the clerk. "Y-Yeah, I…Sorry, it's just quite a selection you've got here."
"Why, thank you." The clerk smiled warmly. "Our stock's a bit low right now – after that gang battle in Del Perro last night, everyone's been wanting to get their hands on a piece for self-defense. But luckily, that's pretty easy here in San Andreas: no background checks, no waiting period, no nonsense."
"The way it should be," Damien agreed. "I'm from Liberty City, and all the Ammu-Nations there were shut down. Mayor's orders."
"Man, that makes me sick." The clerk scoffed. "Denying the right to bear arms to honest, law-abiding citizens like yourselves."
"Damn straight." Damien pointed to the shotgun slung across his back. "We were also wanting to try out your shooting range, if that's okay."
"Of course. By the way, we have a promotion going on right now: get a high score in any shooting range challenge, get twenty-five percent off any item in the store."
"Oh, sweet." He looked at Alexia. "What do you think?"
A timid smile crossed her face. "I-I'm up for a challenge. How about your shotgun against my pistol?"
"Damn…You sure?"
Alexia nodded firmly.
"Well, alright then. Follow me."
Damien paid the clerk twenty-eight dollars, which would cover an hour in the shooting range for himself and Alexia. Before entering, they each donned ballistic glasses and ear protectors. Alexia was grateful for these, since she remembered how painfully her ears had rung under that overpass the other day, on her first mission with Jess.
"You sure you can beat me with just your pistol?"
"I don't know," she admitted, drawing the gun and a few spare mags from her purse. "But I can try."
"Well, you did kill all those Roses yesterday, so I guess I shouldn't doubt you."
"You killed more than I did," she reminded him.
"Well, I also had a bigger gun." Damien brandished his Assault Shotgun. "You ready?"
"Are you?" she challenged him with a smile, which he returned.
"I was born ready, kiddo."
Damien flipped a switch on the side of his booth, which activated the shooting range challenge. The two criminals got themselves ready; Alexia adjusted her stance, holding her semi-auto pistol with both hands.
At least I don't have to worry about getting shot at this time, she thought gratefully.
A buzzer echoed through the concrete shooting range, and a battalion of targets swooped down from the ceiling, color-coded orange and purple. The two criminals began shooting right away; the orange targets were Damien's, while the purple ones were Alexia's.
A full application of The Zone wasn't needed. The targets were close enough that Alexia could use her training and common sense to land hit after hit, each one at or just above the bullseye. For the first few seconds, she and Damien were neck-and-neck, hitting targets with each shot they took.
There was just one problem: magazine capacity. While Alexia had to reload every twelve shots, Damien could fire thirty-two rounds from his extended drum magazine. This, combined with the spread of Damien's shotgun, quickly put him ahead of Alexia.
She slowed her breathing, focusing on the pulse in her index finger against the steel trigger. Her heartrate slowed to a crawl as she inserted a fresh magazine, then raised her gun and fired. Almost instantly, five purple targets disappeared from the playing field, which seemed to distract Damien. He looked over at her, but Alexia didn't look back: she was fully enveloped in The Zone, just as her ancestors, the Marstons, had entranced themselves over a century before.
Alexia's face was calm, detached; she was in her element. In one swift motion, she dropped her empty magazine and inserted another, her eyes dead focused on the targets in front of her.
After a few seconds, The Zone wavered. She could feel her heart speeding up and her lungs begin to burn. She didn't have much time left, but she kept firing, her shots drifting from the bullseye, her grip becoming shaky. The world came back in a rush of light and noise as the buzzer sounded. The remnants of gunfire echoed off the concrete walls and Alexia and Damien put their guns down, sweat dripping from their faces.
An electronic screen swung down from the ceiling, in the same fashion as the targets had. It displayed the score: Purple – 42, Orange – 40.
"Damn…Looks like you won, kid," said Damien.
Alexia wasn't so sure. She'd only used three twelve-round magazines. Even if all of her shots had hit, she knew she shouldn't have scored more than thirty-six points.
"D…Did you hit some of my targets?" she asked him.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "Kind of unavoidable really, because of the spread…Oh, look at that. You got a high score, too."
Damien pointed at the computer screen, which proclaimed Alexia eligible for the twenty-five percent discount on any item in the store.
She felt a nagging sense of déjà vu – she'd again received a reward without feeling like she'd truly earned it. She looked up at Damien, who was offering her his shotgun. She immediately noticed he'd removed the suppressor from the end of the barrel.
"You wanna try it out?" he asked her. "I can give you some pointers."
Alexia gently took the gun in her much smaller hands, caressing it like an ancient relic. She quickly noticed how heavy it was compared to her old pump-action shotgun. However, she knew the extra weight of this gun was a good thing: lighter shotguns had more of a kick, making it harder to swing the barrel and follow through on shots. This was especially important for the purpose Alexia normally used shotguns for: shooting flying birds out of the sky.
Her fingers closed around the angled foregrip Damien had installed. She got herself into proper shooting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, left foot cocked slightly toward the target. Alexia brought the stock up to her cheek first, then pressed it deep into her shoulder, just like her uncle had taught her when she was a kid. However, she quickly realized this gun was much shorter than a pump-action shotgun. Her fingers fumbled over the grip, trying to get a decent hold on it.
"You ever fired one with a pistol grip before?" Damien asked her.
Alexia shook her head. "Just ones with straight stocks. How do you…?"
"Here, let me show you."
Damien moved behind her. Immediately, Alexia was distracted from her gun by the heat of Damien's body penetrating through her shirt. His strong, calloused hands moved snugly underneath her bare arms, positioning her hand on the grip and securing the gun in the crook of her shoulder, all as his stomach pressed up firmly against her slender back.
Goddamn… Alexia swallowed. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her mouth drying up as he moved away.
"There, much better. You comfortable?"
"I-I…Sure."
"Relax your body."
Alexia did as she was told. Lewd thoughts had invaded her mind in those few seconds Damien had touched her, thoughts she was desperately trying to distract herself from so she could focus on shooting.
"Now, once you hit that trigger, hold onto that grip for dear life," said Damien. "And pull back on that stock as hard as you can, okay?"
"O-Okay."
She knew that firing a shotgun was much different from shooting a rifle. Things like breath control and easing on the trigger were unimportant with shotguns. Instead, hard slaps of the trigger were required, as well as a firm grasp to control the gun and keep the barrel moving.
I could never really use The Zone with shotguns, she remembered. Even with my uncle's training, they've always been kind of my weak area.
Regardless, she still wanted to try the Assault Shotgun, a weapon she'd read all about in gun magazines and online forums. As the electronic countdown started, Alexia squeezed the gun into the crook of her shoulder, readying herself for when the targets would drop from the ceiling.
As soon as they did, Alexia pulled the trigger, and was promptly lifted off her feet by the recoil. She stumbled trying to regain her footing, but Damien was right there to help her.
"It's okay, kid, I've got you."
For a moment, Alexia was stunned; she'd expected a full-auto shotgun to have a lot of kick, but this was unlike anything she'd ever fired before. She felt like she'd just fired a rocket launcher; already, her shoulder was throbbing in pain.
But despite this, everything - the deafening boom of the gun through her ear protectors, the stinging scent of iron and sulfur, the deep, burning ache in her right shoulder – all of it felt familiar and safe, even in a place as foreign to her as Los Santos.
Before she knew it, she'd descended into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth as peals of laughter escaped through closed fingers. Damien soon joined her in laughing, holding his smaller crewmate up by her midsection.
"Damn, you alright?" he asked her once the laughter had died down.
"Yeah, I'm fine…Guess I need to work on my upper body strength."
"That gun takes a lot of it. Like I said though, Jess can help you get stronger."
"She's already helping me," Alexia told him. "She gave me some Bull Shark Testosterone pills."
"She did?" Damien frowned. "Well, don't take too much of that stuff, okay? I knew this guy named Brucie back in LC, and those pills turned him into a fuckin' lunatic. Made all his hair fall out, too."
"Really?" Alexia squinted. "Jess told me it makes you grow hair in…places you don't want it."
"I guess at some point, it does the opposite." Damien smiled. "Just be careful, okay?"
"I-I will." Alexia smiled back, handing him the shotgun. "Maybe we can try this again once I'm stronger?"
"It's a plan, kid. Now, let's get you another gun and maybe some body armor. How much money you have now, anyway?"
"Just under six thousand," she admitted, looking down. "I was…pretty poor before I came here."
"Well, tell you what, I don't really need my paycheck from the car dealer. How 'bout I give it to you instead?"
"Damien, no." Alexia urgently shook her head. "You don't have to do that."
"I know I don't have to. But like I said the other night, we Skulls look out for each other."
Alexia pouted. "You know you can look out for me without breaking the bank, right?"
"I ain't breakin' nothin'," Damien said cheekily. "I've been savin' my money since the day I got here."
"Well, that's smart of you, but..." She sighed. "Fine. I'll take your money, but let me repay the favor some day."
"Oh, you will," said Damien. "Us Skulls, we're constantly watching each others' backs. The day will probably come when you have to save my miserable neck."
"Yours doesn't look like it needs much saving," Alexia said with a smirk. "But…I'll be watching it anyway."
"That's the spirit." Damien clapped her on the shoulder. "Now, let's go get you outfitted, killer."
She and Damien exited the shooting range, hanging their glasses and ear protectors on a rack outside the door. Once they were back in front of the clerk, Alexia knew immediately what she was going to use her twenty-five percent discount on. Like her handgun, this weapon was also made by Hawk & Little and used nine-millimeter ammo.
"An SMG, huh?" Damien asked as the clerk rang it up.
Alexia nodded. "This gun's used by NOOSE tactical teams. And thanks to the roller-delayed blowback system, it's also really lightweight."
"That it is." Damien smiled. "It's pretty quiet compared to something gas-operated."
"A lot less recoil, too, because of the lighter bolt." Alexia shouldered her new gun. "It's also really fun to reload these things."
"Ah, the old HL Slap." Damien chuckled. "I should've figured you'd like that."
Alexia smiled at him. With the dexterity of a pro, she delivered a firm, open-handed slap to the SMG's charging handle; this wasn't necessary to reload the gun, but it was a cool move that she'd seen in countless action movies over the years. Getting to do it in real life made her feel like Jack Howitzer. Her cheeks flushed red as she checked the barrel before decocking the gun, which hadn't had a magazine loaded into it.
Along with the SMG and some ammo, Alexia also bought another AP Pistol and a holster, which could be attached to the waistband of her jeans. Last on the list was some body armor; it was heavy and fit her like a turtle shell, but it would protect her vital organs from bullets.
By the end of her shopping spree, Alexia had wiped out her entire paycheck from Simeon, along with most of Damien's. However, by this point she knew just how vital it was to have automatic weapons in Los Santos, a city of gang violence and constant warfare.
As she walked out of Ammu-Nation, Alexia glanced at her phone: Simeon had texted her a list of cars that he needed for his showroom floor. Scrolling down the list, she saw many foreign and luxury cars, vehicles Simeon could easily push on vapid, gullible city dwellers to show off on social media. Alexia pondered how she could get her hands on some of the vehicles, ideally without causing another bloodbath.
No one needs to die over a stupid car, she thought. But I do need work, or I won't be able to make rent next month.
Damien's pickup truck was parked on Adam's Apple Boulevard. After tucking her new guns and her body armor in the back seats, Alexia caught sight of a rifle lying on the floor of the truck. With a rush of excitement, she noticed that the gun had a scope attached.
"Whoa…" She looked over at Damien. "You have a Heavy Sniper?"
"Of course I do," he answered. "That gun's standard issue for assassins."
"Dude, this is a .50 cal!" Alexia's face lit up. "You'd use this to take down aircraft, or something."
"Well, that's part of what I do." He chuckled. "You wanna try it out?"
"Do I ever!"
Alexia noticed how loud and excited her voice was as it echoed off the concrete building next to her.
She cleared her throat, scuffing her shoes on the sidewalk. "W…Where'd you have in mind?"
Damien smiled. "I know somewhere we can shoot in peace. It's a bit of a drive, though."
"Th-that's fine." She smiled back at him. "Probably best we shoot this out of the city, anyway."
"This baby's pretty loud," Damien admitted. "But in a good way. I think you'll like it."
Alexia followed Damien into his truck. She looked back at the Heavy Sniper. Damien was right that it was loud –there were no aftermarket suppressors for this weapon. There was a large muzzle brake to control the recoil, and she knew that the scope could be upgraded to provide a longer range. Other than that, the Heavy Sniper wasn't very customizable, but it made up for it with devastating stopping power, courtesy of the .50 BMG ammo it was chambered for.
I've always wanted to shoot a .50 cal, she thought. And shooting it with Damien, that's definitely a plus…
Alexia shook her head, trying to distract herself. She leaned back in her seat as Damien started the truck's engine and pulled out into traffic, heading east into the outskirts of the city.
Looking ahead, Alexia saw the smoldering towers of factories and warehouses, surrounded by a maze of railroad tracks and decaying concrete. They had entered East Los Santos, a derelict and depressing neighborhood where she knew the Vagos predominated. Alexia locked her door, dreading the idea of having to shoot another yellow-clad gangster in the back.
Eventually, the truck crossed out of the city limits and into the outskirts of a vehicle scrapyard, separated from the ocean by a natural barrier of green-topped mountains. Alexia looked out of her window at these giant hills on the fringes of Los Santos, part of the earthen structures that ringed in Los Santos, halting its urban spread.
Damien pointed out Alexia's window at these mountains. "These are the Palomino Highlands. No one really goes out here, so we should be all alone."
"Why does no one go out here?" she asked him.
"No roads. No cell reception. It's just you and the wildlife out there."
"Well, that sounds like Heaven to me."
Damien chuckled. "Yeah, you seem pretty introverted. And your uncle told me you like the outdoors." He gripped the steering wheel. "I'm gonna drive off road for a bit. Just hang on, alright?"
The truck veered off the shoulder of the small access road and into the wilderness. Its diesel engine exploded through a grassy meadow as it rocketed uphill, toward an expanse of sky that was littered with stars. Near the top of the mountain, the truck lurched to a stop. Alexia was holding her seatbelt for dear life, her eyes clenched shut in fear. When she opened them, she was greeted with a sight unlike any she'd seen before.
The eastern coast of San Andreas was littered with small islands, mounds of jagged rock that were constantly battered by waves. She could see the Moon, climbing slowly out of the depths of the Pacific Ocean, casting the islands in its phantasmic glow. Just outside of the Moon's influence was an array of stars – unlike in the city, virtually the entire cosmos was visible in this untouched corner of the state.
Alexia was astonished by the natural wonder before her. She looked at Damien, whose amber eyes glistened in the moonlight.
"What do you think?"
"I-it's beautiful…" Alexia smiled and looked away, brushing her hair back with her hand. "Good call on the spot, Damien."
"Thanks. I mean, I kinda get tired of the city sometimes – all the noise, the people. Makes it hard to hear yourself think. But whenever I come out here, I just feel a little closer to the sky. Helps me see things clearer."
"I can see that…W-What do you normally shoot out here?"
"I've got some wooden targets set up on that hillside over there." Damien pointed to the north. "You think you could hit one?"
Alexia squinted. "All the way over there?"
"Sure. That's well within the Heavy Sniper's range. And we've got the moonlight for illumination."
"Well, I'll see what I can do," she said. "I don't know if I can hit a target from this distance, though."
"Stop selling yourself short," said Damien. "Your uncle's told me all about how good you are with guns. I think you'll do fine."
Alexia blushed. She had to admit, Damien had a skillful way with words. "Th-thanks."
"No problem, kiddo."
Damien opened the driver's side door, and Alexia followed him. As she retrieved the Heavy Sniper from the backseat, Alexia relished in the sounds of nature around her: a chorus of crickets, the distant wails of coyotes, the crisp ocean breeze swishing through the tall grass. Goosebumps dotted her bare arms; she dropped the rifle and untied the flannel shirt from around her waist, pulling it on over her tank top.
It's not quite South Yankton, she thought with a smile. But I guess this is close enough.
Carrying the rifle, Alexia followed Damien to a spot near the crest of the mountain. Looking to her left, she could just barely see Los Santos and its pale orange glow. This far from the city, most of the stars were visible, twinkling like glass in the dry desert air.
"This is good right here." Damien got down on his stomach, and Alexia followed him. "You see the targets?"
Alexia adjusted the magnification on the rifle's scope. Scanning the hillside to the north, Alexia eventually saw them, three crude wooden targets with bullseyes painted on them. From the number of holes in them, she could tell Damien had made extensive use of them.
"I see them," she told Damien.
"Alright. Now, there's a pretty big crosswind coming in from the ocean. You know how to adjust for that?"
Alexia nodded firmly. Living out on the plains, wind had been a near constant in her life. It would creak and groan through the floor of her mom's trailer and move in waves through the tall grass. And whenever she would go hunting, wind would often toss her bullets to and fro; to provide food for her family, she'd had to adapt.
Damien withdrew a pair of binoculars from his combat vest. It was a bit difficult to see in the darkness, but she could see tufts of grass waving to her on the adjacent hillside, where the wooden targets stood. From the movement of this grass, she could get a rough estimate of the wind speed, for which a quick adjustment of the crosshair would compensate.
Luckily, I'm shooting a .50 cal, she remembered. A heavy round like that won't be tossed around by the wind so much.
Considering this, Alexia moved her sights slightly back to center. Her adjustments were all educated guesses; she'd never hit a target from this distance before, and she'd also never fired such a heavy-duty rifle. She focused on steadying her breathing, her respirations moving in rhythm with the wind swirling around her and Damien.
"Just take your best shot," he whispered. "Doesn't matter if it hits or not."
"Alright…" She breathed out. "I think I'm ready."
"Go for it."
The moonlit air was serene, the ocean breeze gently tussling her hair as she lied in the soft grass. In such a peaceful environment, The Zone wasn't hard at all to access.
Entire mountains faded into warm, inky blackness. She could still feel and hear the wind, but in The Zone, wind seemed to move slower, feeling more like a light breeze against her face. As she neared the end of her exhale, Alexia squeezed the trigger, her focus entirely on the targets at the other end of the void.
A piercing crack, like the Earth splitting open, filled the void. The sniper rifle jerked back into her shoulder, but Alexia had expected this. She followed through on the recoil, maintaining a firm grip on the rifle as her bullet sailed through the void. From this distance, it took a couple of seconds for the projectile to travel to the other mountaintop. When it did, a plume of dust was kicked up a few feet to the right of the front-most target. She'd adjusted a bit too much.
"Damn, that was really close," said Damien. Alexia didn't hear him – she was fully engrossed in The Zone. She loaded another round into the chamber, fixing her crosshairs slightly left so her bullet would travel more with the wind. Pressing her belly to the ground, she lined up her body for another shot.
Alexia squeezed the trigger and watched as her second bullet blew a chunk of wood off the distant target. Damien laughed in astonishment, but again Alexia didn't hear him. She loaded a third round as the Zone wavered. She had time for one more shot.
Her heart was speeding back up. By the time her third bullet left the gun's barrel, she was out of The Zone. As she gasped in a breath, another chunk of wood had been blasted from the target, reducing it to splinters.
Alexia wiped a few drops of sweat from her forehead. Panting, she looked over at Damien, whose mouth hung open as he continued looking down his binoculars, as if not believing what he'd just seen.
She swallowed. "H-How far are those targets?"
"Thirteen hundred yards…"
"Dang..." She had nothing else to say; she was just as surprised by her success as he was.
The air between them was silent, save for the wind as it blew in from the vast Pacific Ocean. The Moon continued rising above them, casting the windward side of the mountain in its ethereal glow. After a few moments had passed, Damien put down his binoculars, running his hands down his face.
"Okay. That was fuckin' incredible."
Alexia smiled. "All I did was shoot some wood."
"Oh yeah?" Damien pointed down to the coast. "You think you could hit a moving target?"
Alexia followed Damien's finger to a swarm of seagulls, their white feathers just barely visible among the waves. She could faintly hear them cawing as they dove in and out of a shallow lagoon that was ringed in by coral reefs.
"Looks like they found some fish down there," said Damien. "Maybe we could reverse the food chain a bit."
"Yeah?" Alexia looked over at him. "And what did those seagulls do to you?"
"They shat on my truck," he answered straight-faced, ushering a sudden laugh from Alexia. "It's true! I take that shit personal, kid."
"Then you take the shot," she said through giggles, shoving the rifle toward him.
Damien playfully pushed the gun back. "No, you take the shot."
"You're the assassin," she replied.
"And you're the best fuckin' shot I've ever seen." He cocked his head at her. "You don't really kill for fun though, do you?"
"Not particularly…Do you?"
"Nah, not really. I just kill whoever your uncle thinks needs killing." He pointed down to the seagulls. "But I'll admit, those squawking bastards test my patience sometimes."
Alexia smiled. "I killed animals back home to provide for my family. Outside of that though, I just shot non-living targets. Sometimes, my brothers would throw frisbees so they could watch me shoot them out of the sky. Other times, I just stuck to empty bottles…Lord knows my mom produced a lot of those."
"Damn…" Damien rested his chin in his hands. "So, wait, you're telling me you have a conscience, kid?"
She laughed. "I guess that is kind of a curse word around here, huh?"
"Well, don't get me wrong, some of us in this crew are cold-blooded bastards. But others?" Damien clicked his tongue. "They may try to act all tough and unbothered, but that's just a cover. Because deep down, they've got a conscience, too. Even Reese does."
"Could've fooled me," Alexia huffed.
"I know he's been giving you a hard time, but don't take it personal. Y'know, the first time he got shot at, he pissed his pants."
Alexia sniggered; she put a hand to her mouth. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah – I was there with him on his first job. And I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone about it, but hey. I lied."
Alexia couldn't help herself; she descended into a fit of squeaking giggles, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. The irony was too much for her. The guy who'd called her 'soft around the edges' was himself softer than a bag of marshmallows.
"Oh man…" Alexia sniffed; tears of laughter were streaking down her face.
"You have a really cute laugh." Damien smiled. "Anyone ever told you that?"
In an instant, the air between them changed. Alexia could feel something – like magnets in the atmosphere, drawing her to the man lying prone beside her. Her eyes drifted up to Damien, who shrugged, his face calm as he rested on his elbows.
Alexia blushed; a smile crept into her face. "I…Y-Yeah, Jess has told me that before."
"I like it. It's very…" Damien clicked his tongue in thought. "…Mirthful? I dunno, kid, I'm a high school dropout. Is that a good word?"
"Yeah, that's a great word…Y'know, you're better with words than you give yourself credit for."
"Thanks…" Damien smiled a bit.
Alexia subconsciously shifted a few inches closer to him, until their elbows were touching. Her heart hammered underneath her shirt; her face was hot, despite the cool night air of the desert.
Should I tell him I like him?
She'd forgotten all about target practice at this point. As Damien lied beside her, his stubbled face soaked in moonlight, his eyes twinkling at her like the array of stars above their heads, she felt she had to act. To take this opportunity while she had it, despite the blood-curdling fear of rejection. She had to confess.
She drew in a breath. "Damien, I…"
Alexia didn't get to finish. She was stopped by Damien leaning in close, stopping just short of her lips. Feeling his hot breath against her face, the smell of his cologne and aftershave, his brown eyes maybe two inches from hers, she lost all sense of inhibition. She quickly closed the gap and kissed him, a move he seemed to have been anticipating.
As they kissed, Damien brushed his fingers down the side of her face. Emotions ran hot and primal through Alexia's body as her tongue glided over his bottom lip. It was her first kiss, sloppy, uncoordinated, but in the moment she didn't care. She reciprocated his touch, wrapping an arm around his neck. The sniper rifle lay beside her in the grass, thoroughly forgotten by its user.
Alexia was trembling as their lips parted. Sweat was beading on her forehead, her cheeks the color of ripe strawberries. She put a hand to her mouth, her breath coming in shuddering gasps of pleasure.
"Hey, you alright?" Damien asked her.
Alexia swallowed; the rush of pure, unfiltered pleasure wasn't something she was used to. She put a hand to her chest, trying to stem the allegro pounding of her heart.
"N…Never better," she answered after a pause. "I-I was gonna tell you something, but I guess I don't need to now."
Damien smiled. "Well, I kinda had the feeling you liked me. But I could tell you were trying to hide it, so I didn't wanna say anything."
Alexia wordlessly buried her face in her hands out of pure embarrassment. At this, Damien sat up, wrapping her in a tight hug.
"It's alright," he said, laughing. "I mean, I feel the same way. You're smart, you're really funny, you know guns like no one else I've met…You're a pretty awesome girl, Alexia. I've really liked spending time with you."
"Th-thank you," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. She was elated. Damien had been into her this whole time, and she hadn't even known, so deep was she in her self-deprecating thoughts.
Damien patted her on the back. "You wanna keep seeing each other for now?"
Alexia nodded sheepishly, looking up at him. "I, um…I-I'd like that a lot, Damien. If our schedules allow it, I mean."
"Yeah, that's true. You'll have sniper training, and I'll be doing jobs for your uncle. But for a girl like you, I'm willing to wait."
She almost couldn't believe her ears – a guy saying such a thing about someone like her was beyond her comprehension. She buried her face in his chest again, wrapping her arms around his neck.
They sat for a moment hugging. Eventually, she felt Damien's grip on her waist tighten. Alexia looked up at him.
"Something wrong?"
"Look over there…"
Alexia looked in the direction Damien was pointing. There was something on the horizon: a boat, rocked by gentle waves out in the deep ocean, its outline just barely visible thanks to the Moon's glow. She knew almost nothing about boats, but from what little she could see of it, this one looked like a luxury craft, possibly a yacht. What it was doing out in this area full of coral reefs and hull-piercing rocks, Alexia didn't know. However, to her there was no cause for alarm at first.
That was, until she saw the purple flame emitting from a small helipad on the ship's deck. Like a phantom, something glided off the ship, drifting listlessly above the ocean for a bit, before suddenly taking off at lightning pace, heading toward the coast of San Andreas.
Alexia's stomach tightened. She'd seen this very aircraft before; earlier that day, it had almost killed her and Jess. She let go of Damien and retrieved the Heavy Sniper.
"You think they can see us?" she asked Damien.
"I don't think so…" Damien breathed out anxiously. "But those fighter jets are armored. It'll take at least a full mag to bring one down."
"You think you could help, then?"
Damien seemed to recognize that Alexia was committed. They didn't know where this jet was going or which gang it belonged to. But in this gang war against the Roses, they both knew that aerial superiority was paramount.
"Yeah," he answered. "I've got something in the truck. Hold on."
Damien scampered away through the tall grass to where his truck was parked. Looking down her scope, Alexia was able to confirm it was the same fighter jet that had almost shot down Jess's helicopter. It was too far away to shoot at that moment, but it was rapidly approaching the Palomino Highlands, its wings leaving bright contrails in the moonlit sky.
It wasn't long before Damien returned, balancing something on his shoulder. Alexia was surprised she hadn't seen this; it was a long metal cylinder, with an exposed warhead and one end.
A Homing Launcher… She frowned. Well, if there was ever a time for it…
"Looks like it's headed for the city," she told Damien.
He shook his head. "Alright then. Guess we're the first line of defense." He pointed a few feet to Alexia's right. "I'm gonna go over there. See if you can get a few potshots in."
Alexia nodded firmly; she had serious doubts she could hit something moving that fast, but in an emergency such as this, she knew she had to try.
The fighter jet was approaching closer to the mountaintop where the wooden targets were. Alexia's grip tightened on the rifle as she inserted a fresh magazine into the gun, then lifted the bolt upward and back, loading a round into the chamber.
"You ready?" Damien called out.
"I think so!" Alexia called back.
"Try to aim for the engine! That's its weak spot!"
"Okay!"
The air was so tense it could be cut with a knife. The jet was almost within her firing range, but Alexia was nervous. If she missed, she would become a target for the jet's heat seeking missiles.
Alexia tried not to focus on the lethal capabilities of this jet. Instead, she tried to imagine that the winged object was just one of the hundreds of birds she'd shot during her life. As she entered The Zone, Alexia was ready. She lined up her sights and squeezed the trigger, feeling again as the rifle kicked back into her shoulder.
It was almost impossible to tell if she'd hit the jet or not. But in The Zone, the jet wasn't moving at supersonic speed. To Alexia's eyes, the fighter jet was floating in a sea of black molasses, making it much easier to hit.
Alexia fired a couple more shots, but there was still no indication she was hitting anything. She could see it bank slightly left, towards her and Damien. As The Zone faded back to reality, the jet had fully turned to face them.
"Letting go!" Damien shouted.
The ground beneath the two quaked as he fired a homing missile at the Hydra. Alexia continued firing sniper rounds as Damien's missile sailed through the air, hitting the Hydra's right wing and sending it into a death spiral.
"ALEXIA, LOOK OUT!"
She'd seen it before he had. The jet was screaming toward the mountaintop they were on, its engine leaving a cloud of thick black smoke. She scrambled to move away from its path, but it was too late. The last thing she remembered was the jet slamming into the north face of the mountain, sending her and Damien flying through the air in a shower of dirt, rocks, and flaming metal.