Free Trembling by V. J. Chambers Page A

go less. Work got in the way. We had different
schedules. Soon it was once a week. Then it was once every two weeks. Pretty
soon we weren't going at all. When I asked Jason about it, he said that I was
fine. I could shoot well. And besides, why did I really want to know how to do
that? The Sons weren't after us. I was paranoid.

I kept asking about it, but we hadn't been there in a very long time. I really
missed it. When I came home from the shooting range, I always felt better. More
sure of myself. Less worried that the Sons of the Rising Sun were going to get
me. More assured that if they did come after me, I could at least take a few of
them down with me.  

Wandering around my empty apartment, I realized that I wanted to go shooting
again. And I didn't see why I had to wait and go with Jason. I was just going
to go. By myself. Why not?

For one thing, I didn't have a car. Hallam had the car. Jason had gotten a ride
to work with a co-worker. The shooting range was at least a twenty-minute drive
from my apartment. I certainly couldn't walk. Dammit. I was going to have to
wait for Jason after all.

Then my phone rang. It was Jude.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to do homework," I said. "But I can't concentrate."

"Wanna hang out?" he asked. "I'll come pick you up."

I only considered for a half a second. "You wanna shoot guns?" I
asked.
    * * *
    When Jude picked me up, (twenty minutes later, since
he had to scramble to find his fake ID) there was a car in the parking lot near
my apartment with the lights on. I didn't pay much attention to it, even when
they pulled out behind us. When I realized the car was following us into
Sarasota
, I began to feel
a little nervous.

Was Mr. Sutherland in the car?

It was bad for me if I was being trailed by the Sons, but it was even worse for
Jude, who had nothing to do with any of the crazy stuff I was mixed up with. I
already felt a little guilty for taking Jude to a target range. Jude was
excited about the prospect of going shooting, but curious as to why I suggested
it. When I told him I'd gone a bunch of times, he was even more curious. Why
did I do that? I told him I just liked doing it. Shooting was fun. He was
intrigued. He'd never known this about me. "Girl, you've got all these
layers!" he exclaimed. "Are you sure you didn't steal that
bell?"

I worried that letting Jude further into my life would make him too curious
about me. And I didn't want Jude to get hurt. He needed to stay out of the
messy business of my circumstances. I needed to protect him. Still, going to
shoot guns seemed harmless enough. And Jude didn't seem to think it was too
weird.  

I didn't want to mention the fact that the car behind us made me nervous. It
made me sound paranoid. We were going from
Bradenton
to
Sarasota
on
Route Forty-One. It was a pretty standard route, and lots of cars used it.
Maybe I was just being silly. Maybe nothing was wrong. Still. It was weird that
the car didn't pass us. It was weird that it just hovered behind us. I watched
it as Jude drove and chattered animatedly about stupid people at work. But I
didn't say anything.

I was relieved when the car turned onto
Fruitville Ave
and didn't appear to be
following us anymore. I  
had
  been
paranoid. Nothing was wrong.  

The hardest thing about shooting a gun for me was keeping my hand steady. When
I first started, I wasn't very strong, and just a few minutes of holding the
gun straight out would really, really hurt my arms. Think of holding a book
straight out in front of you for hours at a time. Ouch. Anyway, after some
time, my arms got stronger, and that helped a lot.  

When Jude and I arrived,I was worried that it had been too long. That I
wouldn't be able to shoot with the kind of accuracy I had before. But
apparently, shooting a gun was something like riding a bike. I still knew how
to do it, but in my muscles, not my head. My body remembered how it worked. My
body remembered how to stand. My body