Free Trembling by V. J. Chambers Page B

remembered how to breathe. One of the
mistakes I kept making in the beginning was to hold my breath while I aimed. It
kept screwing me up. Jason taught me to breathe evenly and steadily, and to
pull the trigger as I exhaled.  

I didn't have much luck teaching Jude what to do. He was hopelessly horrid with
a gun. He didn't even hit the target the whole time we were there, which meant
that the both of us spent a lot of time laughing about how bad he was at
shooting. Jude was also completely awed by my skill. He thought I was really
good. Of course, I wasn't. If Jude had seen either Jason or Hallam handle a
gun, he'd know I was a complete amateur.  

But I did feel better. My aim was good. I was able to hit the target (mostly)
where I wanted to. If I was on the run from the Sons, I'd have a fighting
chance. I felt more confident. Less concerned for my safety. I was glad that
I'd come to the range. And Jude seemed to like it too.

As we turned in the guns we'd rented, he said, "We've got to come back
here and do this again sometime. This was too fun." (We rented guns
because you could shoot guns owned by the range without a permit. Jason and
Hallam had guns in the apartment, but they didn't have permits for them. We
didn't bring those guns to the range. That would get us in a lot of trouble.) I
assured Jude that we could come back whenever we wanted, feeling cheered. Maybe
I couldn't go shooting with Jason, but I could get practice in with Jude. And
Jude was fun to hang out with.  

We burst out of the range and into the parking lot, talking loudly and
laughing.

"How long have you been shooting?" Jude asked me.

"A few months," I said.

"That's all? You're like a pro."

"No, it's just not that hard. You can get that good too."

"That'd be kind of sexy, don't you think?" Jude asked. "Don't
you think guys would dig it if I could shoot guns like really well?" He
got his keys out of his pocket as we approached his car.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess."

"Does Jason think it's sexy that you shoot?"

"Um . . ."  

Jude opened his car door. "He's totally threatened, isn't he? I knew it.
He's such a tough guy. There's no way he could handle it if you were tougher
than he was." He swung into the driver's seat.

I opened the passenger's side door and stood there thoughtfully for a second.
"It's not that," I said, struggling for a way to explain what Jason
thought about it without giving too much away.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me from behind.

I shrieked, twisting to see who had me. I couldn't see anything in the
darkness.

One arm pinned my arms to my chest. Another swept my legs up so that I was
being carried like a baby.  

And then whoever was holding me was running.

I could hear Jude yelling my name.  

I strained to look back at him. I could see him getting out of the car and
running after me and my attacker.

Looking up, since I was closer, I tried to get a look at my attacker. My heart
was thumping in my chest, but I felt an odd sense of calm radiating throughout
my limbs. Maybe I'd been expecting this all along.

I couldn't see anything. The man had a black ski mask over his face.  

For several seconds, I did nothing. I let the strange man who was cradling me
run with me. I went limp.  

Then it was like a switch went off in my brain. I was being captured. I wasn't
going to stand for this.

I wished I still had a gun. At this range, I could have made a complete mess of
the guy who had me.  

But I didn't have a gun. I didn't have anything but my body. I struggled in his
arms, digging my elbow into his rib cage.

He made an umphing noise, but kept running.

"Azazel!" Jude called from behind us.  

I kept struggling, and with an effort that wrenched the muscles in my arm, was
able to free the arm that wasn't against my attacker's body.

We thudded against the ground with the rhythm of his running feet. The jarring
was making my stomach hurt.

I didn't have much time to think.

He was grabbing for my