Chapter 44
“Hey, Boris…?” The child gripped onto the man’s coat and tugged, pulling herself closer.
“What is it, little one?”
On both sides of the paths were stalls filled with sizzling food. The smell of grilled meat and vegetables filled the air and tempted Anya, but she refrained with great diligence. She tried to look away from the enticing dishes but found it to be extremely difficult. Not at all helped by the bright lights above, which only served as a spotlight to their alluring deliciousness. Anya had not eaten anything since the previous cycle and with each additional step, her stomach hollowed out a deeper cavern.
“Can we get something to eat…?” Her belly growled right as the words left her lips as if her stomach had filed its own complaint.
“Da! Are you treating me out?!” laughed Boris. They wandered off to the side and Anya withdrew her bag of coins, weighing it in her palm as she tried to guess the amount. Their rapid steps bounced the coins around, creating audible clinks that hinted their quantity.
“I joke, I joke.” Boris patted the girl on the back, causing her to briefly lose grip, juggling the sack back and forth before regaining composure. “Boss lady gave good bonus, my treat, yes?”
Anya nodded and quickly stuffed the coins in her pocket for it was essentially all she had.
They approached one of the stands. The stand consisted of a makeshift iron grill with several shish kabobs of mushrooms, spam, and some sort of charred meat sitting on top. Using a large paint brush, the grill master gently marinated each individual stick in a thin layer of dark liquid. As the sauce dripped into the fire, bursts of irresistible smoke clouds bombarded the senses.
The girl stood in a daze, a streak of drool sneakily crawling from her mouth.
“I want… that.”
“That? … sure but wipe your mouth or you will put out fire.”
Using her sleeve, the child cleared away the drool as they approached the stand.
“How much ya want?” immediately questioned the old man. He then flipped each kabob, applying another layer of marinade coating before sprinkling a colorful mixture of spices.
“Give me prices, friend. I cannot buy if I do not know.”
“Four for eight.”
“Four for two?! Ha-ha, friend! That is great, I will take!” In contrast to Boris’s jolly demeanor, the grill master did not seem to be amused.
“Four for six.”
“Four for six? Friend, you are pulling leg. Better price or we go. Eh… not very hungry anyway.”
“Really now?” the man scoffed, he then withdrew a piece of folded cardboard from underneath his station and fanned the sizzling kabobs directly toward Anya. “Ya little friend here ain’t agree’n.”
Boris turned to the little girl and saw that her attention was completely drawn to the food. With her mind completely occupied, the child did not even notice that another stream of saliva had made its way down her chin. He hastily ran to her, pulling her into a huddle and a whisper.
“You are not helping, little one.” Boris sighed, begrudgingly reaching into his pocket to obtain his purse.
Realizing what she had done, Anya immediately wiped her mouth again.
“Sorry! Sorry!” the girl murmured, “It’s just that the smell… and the sizzle… and I haven’t eaten in a while, so…”
“It is okay, I get, I get. You are bad at deal making. That is… problem… but problem for another day.” Boris sighed before quickly opening his arms and approaching the grillmaster. “You know what, good feeling today, I take-”
“Four for Ten.”
“You are shitting me…”
“I ain’t shitin nobody.”
Furiously, Boris aggressively pointed his finger at the vendor. “Then there is no buy from me!” His eyes met the unwavering grin of the grillmaster, which in turn traced back to the child behind him. Anya held a saddened and desperate stare. Her mouth puffed, pleading silently with vigor.
“Blyat!” Mumbled Boris, “you win, happy?” He withdrew ten copper coins from his purse and placed it on the vendor’s table. “This is not end. Next time you will pay me for food, you hear?!”
“Yeah yeah, here’s ya food. Thanks ’n come again.”
“I will!” yelled the disgruntled Boris. After retrieving the kabobs, he returned to the impatient little girl. “I thought only women make life hard, now little girl too?”
Anya thanked Boris before she stuffed the first bite into her mouth. Overjoyed, she barely chewed before downing the next piece. “Mmmmmmm, it’s good!” she exclaimed with a thumbs up.
“Better be.” He looked at the two remaining sticks within his hand and decided it was best to hand it to the child as well. “I am… not too hungry. Here, more present from Boris, okay?”
Anya graciously accepted the man’s generosity before continuing, leaving Boris to watch in silence.
“Good thing I am not stuck with your or I will go broke…”
The two continued on, back into the flux of on-goers. After a few minutes of walking, the stands, stalls, and restaurants gradually began to thin out. And in its place: machinery, scraps, and spare parts began to fill the view.
“Ahhhh! I’m full.”
“Phew!” Boris wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “And I thought I was about to go out of money. You eat like this all time or is this special occasion because I pay?”
“I can pay you back if you want.”
“No-no, it is joke. Tell boss lady to give bigger bonus. Much better.”
After extracting the last bit of flavor from the wooden sticks, Anya tossed them to the floor. “So, where are we going?”
“Shooting place, buy bullets, make aim better. You have rifle on back, no? No better than stick if you cannot hit anything.”
“You’ve never seen me shoot, how would you know I can’t hit anything?”
“No need to, I see reaction from boss lady… eh...” Beside him, Anya had crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks. “We are here anyway, if you have skill, show me.”
The two arrived at a large refurbished warehouse, its walls were reinforced with plates of welded metal bolted onto the concrete. As they entered, the continuous bursts of gunfire could be heard from beyond the double door of the reception area. Along the walls of the room was an uncountable number of guns held up in racks. Two of the city’s security guards stood firm at the entrance, weapons ready in hand to dissuade any troublesome individuals.
“That’s a lot of guns…” the girl attempted to count them but quickly gave up. “That’s more than my entire hometown combined!”
“Of course, big city, big money, makes big baddies. You can never have too many weapon, no?”
Behind the counter, a man of a muscular build stood, reading a magazine on top of the glassy surface of the display cases.
“Welcome-” the man unenthusiastically voiced, until he his met with Boris. “Boris! You cheap son of a bitch, how are you doing?!”
The two gripped onto each other's hands and leaned in to pat the other’s back across the counter.
“Ha!” Boris jeered. “Screw you too, friend.”
“Took you a while to get back, thought you kicked the bucket or something. What took you so long?”
“Eh... job was…” Boris scratched the scruff of his neck. “...hard. I can tell you later when you buy drink, good?”
“Drinks? And here I thought you came to offer me a freeby.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“It is okay, this job makes great story. You will love!” Boris motioned an explosion while his lips mouthed a soft popping noise. “Oh, right!” He grabbed Anya and pulled her in front of his friend. “This is the little one.”
“Anya, my name is Anya.” The girl followed up with a quick bow.
“Nice to meet you, little girl.” The clerk reached in for a quick handshake. “Name’s Kane, but you can call me Cane, with a ‘C’.”
“Hmm?” The girl’s head tilted in confusion.
“Ha!” chuckled boris, “she does not get joke.”
Seeing the girl’s expression, the shot clerk smiled. “So, Boris, why did you bring her here?”
“To teach her how to shoot. Also, I need ammo, but I am teacher now! Impressive, no?”
“Right… Hey there, Anya, let me see that rifle on your back.”
Anya backed off as her body tensed up. “Why…?”
“To get you some ammo, unless you already know what you need.” The girl still seemed unsure. “Don’t worry, it’ll be real quick.”
“It is okay, Anya. He is more careful with weapon than children. Not a single scratch! On weapon… I do not know about children.”
Reluctantly, the child handed over her rifle. The man gently grabbed it and displayed the utmost care as he inspected the weapon.
“Ah, 30 caliber, not too expensive.” The man quickly returned the rifle before pulling out a few small boxes from under the counter. “There you go, preloaded into clips and everything. Tell you what, you buy two boxes, I’ll throw in an extra 2 clips for the gun range.”
“Umm... how much for the two boxes?” Anya reached into her coin bag and prepared to offer what she had.
“Boris… are you not going to pay for her…?”
“What-me?! I am teacher, she should pay me for lesson!”
“It’s okay, I can-” But before Anya could finish her sentence, Boris barged in.
“Okay, you need help? I pay this time because I am good man, no?”
“Boris…” Kain said while massaging his nose bridge. “Why do you always gotta do this extra crap?”
“What, it does not hurt anyone? I am happy man!” He quickly leaned across the counter and began to frantically mutter. “Happy man get better price, no? A little short on money, made bad decisions. I stop extra crap if you give deal. Help friend and friend help you.”
The man sighed. “You know what Boris… sure, but you owe me one, again.”
“Great!” Boris threw a few coins on the table before he grabbed the ammunition and hastily led Anya to the shooting range. “That is all I have, thank you, friend!”
“Wait! Boris you-” The man’s final words were muffled by the sounds of the gun range.
A series of occupied booths lined the width of the range with each firing station separated by a pair of thin walls. Further down the range were sets of painted targets placed at various intervals. At the opposite end of the chamber sat a sturdy concrete wall, which served as the final resting place of the outgoing metal projectiles.
“Come, free one over here.” Boris walked toward an empty station and placed two clips on the table upon arrival. “Right here, show me what you can do.”
With haste, Anya approached the table and drew her rifle. She glanced down ranged at the targets, her heart beating faster and faster as gunfire went off all around her.
“Sh-Shoot the targets... r-right?” the girl questioned, pointing down range.
“Well, you are not here to shoot me.”
“R-Right… I got this…” Anya tightened her grip on the rifle and took a deep breath. “O-Okay…” She placed the stock of the rifle on her shoulder and awkwardly gripped onto the trigger with both hands. With arms bent at strange angles, she closed her left eye and attempted to line her sight with the length of the rifle.
“What are you doing?” Boris question.
“Huh?” Anya loosened her posture. “W-What do you mean?”
“You are shooting rifle, not shooting bazooka. Why do you hold like that?”
“Umm... “ The girl averted her eyes. “I was… “
“You never use rifle before?”
"..."
“You never use rifle before.”
“...” Anya still did not speak, but the look on her face said it all.
“Well… you start from somewhere, no?”
“I-I have fired a gun before, it’s just that I kind of… didn’t hit anything…” The girl’s voice trailed off to a mumble.
“It is okay, when I started, hit nothing too.” Boris began to adjust Anya’s pose, moving the rifle such that the stock of the rifle pressed against her shoulders.
“Really?”
“No,” the man replied, “I was always good.” He then positioned both of the child’s hands. “Here, hold like this.”
Carefully, Boris released his grip on the girl. Moments passed and to his surprise, Anya held the rifle fairly still, considering the weapon was thicker than her arms at certain parts.
“Ahh, little one has muscles.” He pulled back his sleeves and flexed his arm. “Big and strong like Boris.”
“Umm… thanks…”
“Good… Good… Now, hold back metal.” Boris pulled back the top bolt until it clicked, revealing a cartridge sized compartment. “Take ammo, make sure pointy end does not face you and push it in.”
Anya did as she was told, with the rifle at a forty-five degrees angle in front of her, she pressed a clip into the chamber. The metal covering immediately snapped back once she released, nearly clamping her thumb in the process.
“Careful, little one. Do not let it bite.” Boris then gave out a short laugh. “Now, aim for that target over there.”
Anya traced the tips of the man’s fingers. “T-The farthest one?!”
“If you can shoot far, you can shoot near, no? Now, shoot!” commanded the man, “let me see your aim.”
The girl quickly changed her posture and after a brief moment, she pulled the trigger.
PUM!
Anya’s heart fluttered even faster than before. Though the recoil was strong, she was ready this time and her arms barely moved.
“You have very strong arm, little one. Is it some trick?” Boris surveyed the target range and searched for the point of impact. “But your aim… no trick.”
“I-Is it that bad…?”
“I do not know if you shoot backward or forward.”
Disheartened, the girl dropped her shoulders in disappointment. It was one thing to know that she could not aim, but seeing it was all the more displeasing.
“It is okay, little one. That is why I am here, make aim better, no?” Boris smiled while he rubbed the child’s head, messing up her hair. “Now, tell me, how are you aiming?”
“With this little metal thing.” Anya pointed at the rear iron sight. “But it never goes where I point.”
“Just with this?”
Anya nodded.
“There is problem, you see this little metal at end of rifle?” His finger traced along the weapon to the end of the barrel. “You line this little metal with other little metal.”
“Ohh…”
“Yes, try it. It makes aim much better, I promise.”
Anya lifted up the rifle once more and aimed, this time guided by the words of her mentor. Her heart was still rapidly beating, though the rifle was somewhat still, the shaking hindered her ability to align the target.
At the squeeze of the trigger, the bullet ejected from her rifle. Though she did not hit her mark, her shot at least landed close enough to the target to be distinguished.
“Good, good.” The man complimented, “but you can do better. Take your time, no pressure here.”
Anya readied her next shot and just shortly after she lined up her rifle, firing one after another. Each time with the same issue as before: she could not hold her arms completely still. From an outside perspective, the slight swaying barely registered, however from her viewpoint, every subtle shift threw off her aim. In addition, the long-distance greatly exaggerated the offset as a centimeter shift resulted in a meter off the mark. After the eighth shot, the cartridge was ejected with a loud and startling ping noise.
“You aim… it is… not too terrible.” Boris squinted his eyes to better distinguish the locations of the shots. “No more like cripple, now more like… half cripple. Much better, no?! Still nothing like Boris.”
Despite the compliment, Anya did not laugh or smile, she instead was frustrated.
“What is wrong?” Asked Boris, “You are doing better than most little people I know.”
“I can’t hold the gun still! It goes in all sorts of directions.”
“That is not big problem. You think I do not move while shoot?”
“You do?” The girl’s eyes widened in excitement as she pulled the rifle close to her chest. “Then how do you deal with it?”
“I will tell you. First, set up your rifle.”
“Why can’t you just show me?”
“It is… a little more difficult to see. You will learn better by trying.”
“Umm, okay.” The child pushed the second cartridge into the rifle and attempted to steady her aim like before.
“How fast does your chest pound?”
“My chest…? Not as fast as before but…” The girl focused briefly on her heart beats, “it’s still kind of fast.”
“Make it go less fast.”
“What? How?”
“Take deep breath. Your inside moves, outside moves.”
Anya followed Boris’s instructions, and slowly but surely, the swaying in her arms lessened as the thumping in her chest calmed.
“There’s still a bit of swaying.” Complained the girl. “Do I have to make my heart even slower?”
“You are human, no? Nobody can hold completely still. But there are tricks to help, like squeeze trigger slowly, focus on target. What else… Also, try holding your breath right before you shoot, but do not hold too much or you will die. Not good for anybody, no?”
“Right…”
The child continued to hold her stance. Though her rifle was heavy, Anya’s arms did not waver. And as she exhaled, her heartbeat became further and more spaced out. Until she could barely feel it. Until she questioned whether it was still beating. Anya focused on her target, zoning out all unnecessary distraction, which was oddly easier than she had expected.
Following what Boris had suggested, she then held her breath. A brief moment passed and a strange coldness began to grow across her flesh. Her body no longer followed the tunes of her lungs or heart, but the slight vibrations that flew aimlessly through the air. She waited until these faint tremors allowed her to align with the target. Her fingers slowly tightened around the trigger as to not created any unnecessary movement until she was finally ready.
Am… Am I human…?
The sudden thought caught her off guard, causing her aim to shift just slightly as she fired her rifle. In that short moment, the entire world came back to her all at once, briefly disorienting her. The child’s heart jumped with ferocity, beating even quicker than when she had begun. She held her rifle before her and stared at her pale hands as the color slowly returned. The numbness was soon replaced as what could only be described as hundreds of tiny needles poking her all at once.
“Little one!”
“Huh?” Her attention suddenly shifted to Boris, who was shouting in excitement.
“Impressive shot.” The jovial man gestured down ranged. “I am great teacher, no?”
Anya’s eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, the world felt so strange to her. All the sounds and lights, they felt peculiar and foreign. Only after a while of cluelessness, was she able to see what had caused all the commotion.
She had missed the bullseye… but only by an inch.