Free Fugue State by M.C. Adams Page B

Joe had given her was another twenty minutes beyond the edge of the city limits. Finally, the cab turned onto a long dirt driveway. Alexa saw Joe standing in front of a clearing lit by a few large spotlights. She thanked the cab driver with a generous tip before turning to Joe.
    “Why did you want to meet here?”
    Joe grinned. “This here is my private shooting range.” He motioned to the lighted clearing surrounded by trees and pasture. “I’ve got something special for tonight, kinda celebratory, given the situation.”
    Joe’s reference to the trial made Alexa uneasy. She handed him the whiskey in an attempt to change the subject. Joe accepted the bottle and nodded his head in approval; gratitude sparkled in the old man’s eyes.
    “You ever tried this stuff?” he asked. Alexa shook her head.
    “Give it a swig. Ladies first.” Joe opened the bottle and passed it to her.
    The liquor smelled strong and sweet. She took a long gulp and hoped the alcohol would wash away her memories. The whiskey burned the back of her throat, still sore from vomiting earlier. She forced a swallow and passed the bottle back to her friend.
    Joe chuckled to himself. “Yeah, it’s pretty strong stuff straight up. But you get used to it. Come on. We better get started. I’ve got a lot to show you.”
    Alexa followed Joe into the clearing, and she realized he had a small arsenal laid out on a bench before them. She viewed the array of handguns, small semi-automatics with sights, and rifles. Only one of the guns looked familiar. On the ground behind them were multiple two-liter and twenty-ounce plastic soda bottles. Some bottles were spray painted in neon green, others were clear with the labels stripped away.
    Joe beamed. “Target practice. Time we bumped you up to some moving targets.”
    “Nice. I like a challenge.”
    Joe handed her a simple handgun. He grabbed a neon green two-liter and threw it high into the air and about twenty yards in front of them. Alexa hit it on the second shot.
    “All right, you’re gonna have to do better than that if this is gonna be any fun.”
    Alexa blushed. He threw another two-liter high into the air. This time she only needed one shot.
    “Better. Now close your eyes, and open them when you hear me say so.”
    She obeyed her instructor and opened her eyes at his command, quickly firing before the bottle landed. When the bullet hit the two-liter, it exploded into a small ball of fire. Her eyes widened in amazement.
    Joe laughed heartily. “Good thing you hit that one. It would have been a shame to miss your response. Told you I had something special out here. You can’t have fireballs indoors, you know. Don’t worry. We’ve got more to come. Close your eyes. Face me. This time, I want you to hear me throw the bottle. Then turn, spot it, and fire.”
    Alexa nodded.
    She listened for the sound and turned, too late. The bottle had already hit the ground.
    “Again,” said Joe.
    She turned back to face him and closed her eyes. She didn’t hit the bottle with this approach until the third try. Another fiery explosion confirmed the hit.
    The game continued for a total of twelve bottles, the last six being the smaller twenty-ounce variety. Alexa hit only seven of them.
    “Not bad, for a girl. Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”
    Alexa flashed a mischievous grin. “Where’d you learn to throw like that? Don’t tell me you were the high school quarterback.”
    “A long time ago, I was a lot of things — football, baseball, you name it, I did it. That was before the army.” His eyes fell to the ground.
    “It’s impressive — your throwing, that is,” she added.
    Joe frowned.
    You don’t like compliments, Joe? Funny, how we’re similar in that way.
    Joe took another swig of whiskey and motioned back to the clearing. “You’ve got more work to do.”
    He grabbed one of the small, semi-automatic weapons and crouched down behind the bench where the remaining weapons lay. “Like