The school was in an uproar. No matter where one went everybody was talking about the ambulance and Troy Han. It was unusual for anything noteworthy to happen on a Wednesday, but the entire school was buzzing with rumors.
Laena and her friend got their gossip straight from the source. Troy’s roommate was recounting how Troy was taken to the hospital.
“I am telling you. I woke up in the middle of the night to Troy groaning in the bathroom. At first, I thought he had fallen ill or something, but when he turned to me I thought I was looking at a zombie.” Caleb regaled the class with what happened in the boys’ dorms and Laena heard what he told them with growing worry.
“...and he stands up. I swear on god he is like two meters tall. He went to bed one meter sixty nothing and the next time I see him, he is a giant. His cheeks were all hollow, the eyes sunken in, and pale as if he just died.” Caleb paused for a moment.
Laena and Safora looked at each other.
“It couldn’t be,” Laena said.
“Could be,” Safora said
Caleb continued his tale. “So, I get the security guard, and you know that isn’t a small man. We return to the room and Troy stands over the dude by at least a head. It was crazy. He calls an ambulance for Troy and they take him away in a hurry. Troy didn’t look so good. Man, it was crazy, and all that happened in the span of one night and now our room is getting turned upside down by the police searching for something that would explain this.”
Laena sat back in her chair. She wondered what happened to Troy. Turning to Safora she was about to ask what they should do, but at the last second, she stopped herself. She would go to the hospital herself after school. There was no need to pull Safora into this. Little did she know that Safora was planning on doing her scouting.
The teacher came into the room like a thundercloud, shutting Caleb up but the rumor long since made the round in school.
Laena begrudgingly listened to the lecture while wondering if there would be more such cases from now on. She wanted to talk to Ramiel, but ever since they went back to school there had been no contact between them. It irked her, she felt like Ramiel was abandoning them, and though Laena knew that he was busy organizing his own life she couldn’t shake that feeling. The Troy incident only served to heighten the feeling of having no way to contact the one person that could explain what might be happening.
The lunch break couldn’t come soon enough. Talking with Safora about this situation would help her ease her tenseness which once again slowed down the world around her. The stress of being in her head for much longer than the lesson went on had become a daily event.
Though she had gotten better at controlling her perception somewhat, Laena realized that a stressful situation or environment led to her perception of the world slowing down by a factor that seemed to correlate with her constitution at the moment.
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“Do NOT point the pistol anywhere except down range. Do NOT pick it up unless I say so. Do NEVER treat it as anything other than a loaded and lethal weapon.”
The range master thundered to the three groups lined up along the wall. Ravela looked down at the table in front of their group’s instructor.
“Is that understood, recruits?” The Range master asked the line of rookie recruits.
They answered as one, “Yes, sir.”
“Very good. You may now step closer to the table of your instructor. They are going to enlighten you on all parts of your gun,” The booming voice of the range master rang out. “You will learn the ins and outs of your pistol. Before you ever fire a shot from this weapon, you will know how to take it apart, clear a jam, and take care of it properly. Before you ever step to my beautiful firing range you will clear three, count ‘em, THREE exams.”
He paused as he walked down the full length of the firing range. Then he spoke again, and even though he was now on the other side of the hall he was not one bit less audible. “The exams in order are the Use of Force Exam, the Weapon Safety Exam, and lastly the Code of Conduct Exam. You will not fire a shot before you pass all three of these.”
The Instructors at their respective tables took over so smoothly that Ravela had to assume this speech had remained exactly like that for the entirety of his career.
“Recruits, what you see here is the standard issued pistol every officer in Pliada City serves with.” The spread-out gun parts are sitting on a towel and the assembled pistol is on the metal table. Ravela liked the contrasted presentation.
“These are the parts of your gun. Each part is important for your gun to function properly. If one piece is broken or missing you can no longer properly defend the citizens, your fellow officers, or yourself. And so we’re clear that is the proper order of priority, don’t you ever forget that.” Instructor Fullert intoned his explanation. His Hand now drew their attention to the fully assembled gun. “This is the aforementioned gun. The RM 4645 has been the service weapon of PCPD since it was released. Assembled like this it is to be always treated as fully loaded with one in the chamber until the moment you made sure with your own eyes that it is not.”
He picked up the gun and put it in the holster at his hip. “The weapon is on safety, yes. But that functionality can fail. Don’t EVER point your gun at anyone you don’t need to shoot or expect you have to shoot shortly.”
With a hand motion that signaled the group to follow he walked toward the booths with the practice targets. “Now, if you ever make it to this spot, here is how you will conduct yourself. Don’t pull your firearm out before you are within the confines of the booth. Next, check the chamber. As you can see, the chamber of this pistol is empty and has no magazine in it. Now you know that this gun is empty, not a moment before this check do you ever presume it to be anything but a deadly fully loaded firearm.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Instructor Fullert picked up a magazine from the table in the firing booth. “You load the gun like this,” He said while sliding in the loaded magazine. “Now this weapon is loaded and you know it. There may or may not be a bullet in the chamber on accident so treat it that way.”
He pulled back the upper part of the pistol, and Ravela could hear in detail the bullet slipping into the barrel.
“Alright, recruits this is the part where you put on the hearing protection.” As he half turned his head to see when his group had followed through on his instructions.
Then he turned his attention back to the front. Pulled the trigger and with a bang, the bullet was on its way. Ravela wondered how it felt to be hit by a bullet but pushed the thought off as more bangs rang out.
After nine shots instructor Fullert put down the gun barrel downrange on the table. He signaled them to take off the ear protection. “Alright, now here is the thing. You must know what you have in your gun. This pistol has ten bullets in a magazine, and how many have I fired?”
Ravela raised her hand with all the other recruits. She took note of the change in their attention. All now fixed on details as it seemed. The first day had made an impression on them. In her head, she applauded instructor Harmond for his creative introduction of his assistant instructors all over again.
“Recruit Madri, how many shots did you count?” The instructor made his choice.
“Nine shots, Sir.” Kahli Madri answered after a short hesitation on her end.
Instructor Fullert noticed. “You hesitated before answering. It is good to second guess yourself sometimes just don’t make it a habit to doubt things you should or can be certain about. You are correct, nine shots. That is to say, there is still one bullet left in this gun.” He looked at each recruit before speaking again, and Ravela just could smell a trap being laid out for them. “So who wants to take this last shot.”
Ravela didn’t have to look questioningly left and right for confirmation, she was about to take this bait.
“Mr. Roice,” Instructor Fullerts eyes honed in on him, “would you mind?”
Ravela’s lips twitched a bit bemused before she answered. “Sir, I would mind. I haven’t yet passed the three mandatory exams the range master requires me to be allowed to shoot at his range.”
From directly behind her a voice boomed out. “That is god damn right, recruit Roice. I would have eaten you alive if you even thought about daring to dream of trying something here.”
Ravela flinched. She hadn’t heard the range master come up behind her at all. She was impressed and irritated.
The other recruits had flinched as well. All except for Alan Weipher, Ravela noticed. Either he had seen the man sneak up on her or he had the temperament of a boulder.
She saw from the corner of her eye that the range master had moved on to the next group that was still shooting. ‘Find something you love as a job and you won’t have to work a day in your life, huh range master?’
“Okay, attention back to me, recruits! That is exactly right. You do your training and duty as the laws require. There is no special treatment for anyone here. If something like that is offered to you, do not take it because that disqualifies you from becoming what you want to become.”
The man turned back to the table and picked up his pistol. Firing the last shot of his pistol into the target. The upper part of the pistol slid backward and locked in place. “This gun is now empty. This position of the sleigh has to be manually cleared.”
“Here you see the bolt that releases your magazine from the gun.” He pushed it and his other hand caught the empty magazine. “As you can see it easily slides out. Take care not to press it after your first shot.” Flicking on the safety feature, instructor Fullert said, “Never forget all safety features can fail, but that is not a reason to not use every available feature you can use.”
He put the gun down. Stepped away from the table and said, “And now we go to the classroom and start the Weapons safety course like the other recruits before you. Go on, I got many more groups to initiate. Room 129, shoo.”
Ravela and her group were unceremoniously chased out by their instructor to return to the lecture hall they had been pulled out of before.
While walking back Ravela thought about her guns. The safety feature was remarkably identical to that of the pistol she was shown and Ravela wondered if such a simple design was unchanging even in futuristic guns. It seemed stale, but on the other hand, why change a good feature?
The last lecture of the day was also the most fun if someone asked Ravela.
Ravela walked out of the police academy around 4 pm. Her steps were light and her motivation ran high. She was ready to get some work done.
Excited to build and construct her new home further. The shaping of it filled her with joy.
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*Somewhere dockside in Pliada City 5 pm*
A fire was spreading in the commercial heart of Pliada’s questionable goods. Firetrucks were racing from one spot to the next unable to get in front of the chaos.
The swaddy clans ran around like headless chickens. Many impromptu standoffs occurred because fleeing groups ran into each other.
The man responsible watched with a stoic heart analyzing their reaction to the groups they ran into. Were they hostile, distrustful, or delighted? He had to know. Only through understanding them would he be able to do things properly.
He was on a mission, and he never failed. Under his sky mask his nose wrinkled. “Never again.”
He jumped over to the next roof effortlessly. Such strength was new to him. A short while ago he’d have never made use of this strength and just quietly lived his life as a father. But that had been taken from him, and now he had only this path.
Find the culprits and burn their houses to the ground.
Finding the next warehouse with his marking on the roof was easy. The red circle painted on the edge made it easier for him to orient himself in the warehouse district. And scouting ahead was in many ways his first and now only calling.
Once on a designated roof, he found one of the roof windows and just jumped through them. The fall did no longer concern him as such weaknesses had left his body. Touching down on the warehouse floor he immediately spotted the confused and alarmed criminals running toward him. His lips formed into a snarl of disgust, but he waited long enough for them to come close enough.
Only after he was sure that at least half of them had made it to the point of no escape, did he stand up from his kneeling position. Turning his full attention to the biggest group, he spread his arms. His bare hands are deceivingly barren of any weapon.
The swaddy scum laughed nervously in his face, and he felt the insane satisfaction of the oncoming revenge and laughed along with them. He waited for the moment when their laughter faltered and the brows furrowed in confusion.
His hands snapped forward and collided in a clap. He opened his palms outward toward the confused group now aiming their guns at him. ‘Pointless, hopeless, dead.’
*BANG*
The shriek of an explosion thundered from his palms as flesh burned into dust as crates disintegrated from the might of the explosion.
The starting fire roared over the horrified screams of those behind him who had not faced the brunt of his first clap. Bullets hit his back as he watched the mangled corpses with and without flesh. One man who stood a bit to his side was on one side still his former self looking befuddled not realizing he was already dead. His jaw moved normally like he tried to say something. Fleshy cheek on one side, exposed teeth, and burned-off carbonized flesh on the other.
He waited till the man collapsed and the bullet hail stopped. Then he turned around spreading his arms once again. The reaction was instant. Guns fell to the floor and people who thought themselves hard as nails started to run for their lives.
He waited for a moment giving some of them the illusion of having a chance to make it out of his range. There was only one who might make it in time to just be severely injured and they’d die when the warehouse collapsed on them. Or better yet, he clapped and the inferno spread from his opened palms, he’d live to rue the day they chose to walk this wretched path.
There was no hesitation after his second clap his job here was done, and he jumped up. Grasping the edge of the broken roof window the glass still in the way of the frame didn’t hinder him more than air would have.
Pulling himself up was easy, and once again he watched over the edge of the roof the fleeing survivors, but only for a moment. Vengeance didn’t enact itself.
Jumping to the next roof, his heart didn’t race at the destruction he reigned over the city and its criminals. He felt empty inside with no sense of accomplishment, only his mission.