Regeneration

Chapter 15 - Target Practice

I woke up early the next morning. Considering my thoughts from last night I decided I needed to learn how to defend myself more adequately, even if that meant learning how to use a gun.

Reality had warped into something resembling a dystopian nightmare. I needed to be prepared for the worst. As if things could deteriorate more than they already had. This was only the beginning.

Later that day, I wandered downstairs in search of Romero. I roamed around the house looking for him. He wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, I turned to go check another location but bumped into a hard figure.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Looking for you actually," I stepped back, noticing our closeness.

He studied me expectantly.

"I want you to teach me how to shoot," I said firmly.

"And I am supposed to trust a stranger with a gun?" He said in a stoic tone.

"That's what I'm doing. Besides, I am not that type of person. Are you?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Okay," he said plainly.

I said nothing, holdinghis gaze.

"Follow me," he said walking away from me.

I followed him as he walked down the hall, we arrived at an elevator.

Stepping inside he pushed a button to take us down. The elevator took us below the ground level of the house. When the elevator opened I was taken aback by the huge space before me, there was an entire floor below the house.

I stepped out looking around, there was a variation of guns lined up on a rack and on the far end was an elaborate computer set up at the far end with multiple computer screens and cords.

He led me further in where I saw an indoor gun range like the ones you'd see on T.V.

There were four wide lanes with targets at the end of the open space. I couldn't believe this was part of someone's house.

I couldn't fathom why a person would need all of this.

Romero walked over to a random wall turning to face it and I questioned his sanity for a second.

He surveyed it for a moment before he placed his palm on the smooth bare wall. A green light glowed under his hand and part of the wall sank backward and glided to the side.

As he stepped in, the room illuminated. My jaw dropped at the sight. Guns decorated the walls in the small room. There were guns of all types and sizes.

"Why does an IT specialist need so many guns?" I questioned, as I scanned the room.

"A hobby," he said vaguely.

"Is it even legal to own this many?"

Romero laughed lightly to himself as he reached for a nine-millimeter handgun. He walked back to me handing me the gun.

"It's light," I said looking up at him.

"That's because it's empty." He replied.

He grabbed a box of rounds and ushered us out of the room. Placing his hand on the same spot on the wall. It moved back into place and it was like the room never existed.

Why would this person need all of this? What was he involved in? An IT specialist for who?

The questions lingered on my mind for some time. I had a feeling Romero wasn't telling me everything.

I glanced over at him as he locked in something on a touchpad and fresh targets lined up. He came to stand next to me.

"Look at me," he said as he takes the gun from my hand.

He emptied some loose bullets onto a small table in front of us.

"This is the magazine release," he pressed a small button just behind the trigger on the left side of the gun. The magazine slid out smoothly as he caught it with his other hand.

He laid the gun on the table, then picked up the loose bullets one at a time, pressing them down on top one another into the empty clip. He then slid the magazine back in with a tap on the butt of the gun, clicking it in place. He pulled back the slide of the gun, sending a round into the chamber.

Once again, he releases the magazine, setting it down on the table. Pulling back the slide, he removed the single bullet in the chamber and placed it along with the gun neatly on the table.

"Your turn," he said and I noticed that he shifted a little behind me

I looked at each piece, trying to recall what he did.

I picked up the magazine and the bullet first. With extreme caution, I pressed the bullet down into the magazine. I then reached for the gun, I slid the magazine into the gun with a tap to the butt, and pulled the slide back, but not without a bit of difficulty.

"Good," he said, "Now we shoot."

He takes the gun, showing me how to hold it as he aims at one of the targets. He positioned his body before he shot four bullets at a target. All four hit the red bullseye on the human cut out.

He stepped back, handing me the gun.

"Now you try," he said returning to his position behind me.

I raised the gun, mirroring his stance as I aimed. I pulled the trigger, the shot missing the target completely. The powerful explosion caused the gun to recoil upward, making me lose control. The sudden movement frightened me and I gasped.

I heard Romero release a light chuckle.

I felt his body move closer behind me, his arms coming up to the outside of mine, his mouth near my ear.

"Concentrate, think about where you want it to go," He said softly as he helped me aim.

A slight shudder ran through me at his breath on my neck and I hoped he didn't notice.

"You need to anticipate the power of the gun, hold it firmly," he said as he tightened my grip on the gun with his hands.

"Okay," I breathed, getting ready to take the shot.

I pulled the trigger and the bullet cut through the air hitting the target just outside the red dot. I was surprised by the adrenaline that rushed through me from hitting the target, I felt powerful.

He put some space between us and I turned to him.

"How are you so good at this?" I asked marveled by his capability and skill. I had never seen anything like this before. I knew my dad was involved in things of this nature but I had never seen him in action.

"Practice," he said plainly

I kept my eyes on him wondering if that had a darker meaning.

"Try again," he instructed.

We spent the rest of the day down there, shells clinking as they fell to the ground, I was hell-bent on getting ready for what was coming. I had to if I was going to survive and find my family.