Solar Storm: Homeward Bound

by Vincent Keith

  By the end of breakfast, Rachael had almost come to grips with the idea. “I don’t know if I could shoot someone.”

  “I could,” said Lexi. “If I’d had a gun in the car I’d have shot them. Maybe if they weren’t trying to hurt you. If it were just me… I’m not sure…” She stopped, considering the idea.

  “That’s not surprising,” said Jack. “Some people are more likely to take extreme steps to protect someone they love than they would to protect themselves. Perhaps we have a hard time believing things could end badly, but when it’s someone we love, it seems more real.”

  “Think about those two men. If you’d had a gun and knew how to use it? Would you have shot them to keep Lexi safe?”

  Rachael considered the idea for just long enough to picture what would have happened if they’d succeeded. “Yes.”

  “It’s no fun, but you have to think it through. Make the decision beforehand. You won’t have time to decide when you’re in trouble. Decide now when you would and when you wouldn’t. Once you’ve decided, never pull the gun from the holster unless you’re willing to use it.”

  “After those two assholes, I know I can,” said Lexi.

  Rachael started to cry.

  “Mom, what’s wrong.”

  “It’s not fair! We shouldn’t have to talk about this, we shouldn’t be stuck out here. It’s just not fair.”

  “No. No, it’s not,” said Jack. “But it is reality, so suck it up and deal with it. Lives depend on it, Lexi’s for one.”

  Rachael’s fists clenched ready to lash out. “Why do you have to be such an ass?”

  “Because I want you to live.”

  The anger faded. Lexi was holding her. They were alive because of Jack and they had a chance, but she needed to hold it together. Over the years, she’d learned to put her emotions aside. In nursing, you dealt with it later when everyone was safe. She’d have to do the same thing now. Life was never fair, or maybe it always was. Life didn’t care if you liked what was happening, that was your problem.

  She wiped her eyes and stood up. “Show me,” she said. She took Lexi’s hand. “Show us.”

  “Good. Let’s get this cleaned up and organized first.”

  Cleaning up from breakfast was easy. Sorting supplies and making yet another pile of things that would be left behind proved to be more challenging. They got it down to one bag, which Jack fit into the dogcart.

  Camp chores completed, Jack took them through the four rules of gun safety.

  “It’s pretty simple, but critical. The rules are the same, the order changes depending on who you talk to. Rule one: The gun is always loaded. If you start with that, you’ll never find yourself saying—but I thought it was empty. Rule two: Never point the gun at anything you’re not willing to destroy. You need to know where the muzzle is pointing whenever the gun is in your hand. Rule three: Be sure of your target, and what’s beyond your target. If you miss, you need to know where that bullet is going to end up. Even if you hit your target, the bullet may pass through with enough speed to still be dangerous. You’re responsible for that bullet until it stops moving. Rule four: It’s usually stated as, keep your finger off the trigger until your sight is on the target. The problem I’ve found is that you’re not telling people what to actually do with that finger which puts them in a position of having to figure it out every time. So. Keep your finger on the frame until your sight is on the target.”

  They went through them over and over until they could repeat each rule and explain why the rule was there. He taught them the mechanics of the gun, the magazine, and the bullet. Finally, he took them through stance and aiming. They practiced with dry guns, drawing from the holster and returning them, always aware of their trigger fingers. Jack drilled them, making sure each step was correct, precise and repeatable.

  “We’ll practice every evening and every morning for a while. It’s going to make you nuts, but you need to get good at this. We’ll do it faster each day until you hit your limit. For now, it’s more important to do it right than fast. We’re building muscle memory. We want to make sure you always grip the gun the same way, always with your trigger finger along the frame. The finger stays on the frame until you get a sight picture. If you lower the gun, you put your finger on the frame again. Next week we’ll do this while you’re moving.”

  They took a break to collect more firewood while Jack made a target out of an old T-shirt and a Sharpie. They shared a single pouch of beef stroganoff, donuts and beef jerky. The jerky made them all thirsty, and they went through a lot of water. Fortunately, the dogs were getting their water directly from the creek.

  “More water boiling tonight.” Jack sighed. “We need to get into the habit of hydrating when we have a good water source. I suspect there will be days when we’re going wish we had more water bottles.”

  Jack wrapped parachute cord around two of the water bottles and attached carry straps and gave them each a bottle. He showed them how to take down the tent then put it back up. Next, they learned how to build a fire and use a fire steel. He gave Rachael the fire steel he wore around his neck along with the small neck knife he carried. Lexi got his spare waterproof match kit and his folding knife. Jack kept his fixed blade knife with the fire steel attached to the sheath.

  That afternoon he took the loaded magazines, and they headed to his makeshift gun range. “Okay, I’ve only got about a dozen of these ear plugs so don’t lose them. The person shooting will also wear these earmuffs.”

  “Why both?” asked Rachael.

  “One thing we want to control is flinching. Some people think it’s a reaction to recoil but I don’t buy it. My experience tells me it’s a response to the sound. Pay attention while the other person is shooting, you might flinch the first few times, but try not to. You need to learn to not anticipate and to not be afraid. There’s not much recoil to these guns, even the 1911.”

  “I’ve heard that a forty-five kicks like a mule.”

  “By people who’ve never shot one, or don’t know how to hold it. If you want to feel a mule kicking, I’ll let you shoot my rifle. There is definitely recoil, but it doesn’t hurt. Besides, you’ll be shooting a 9mm, so you won’t have a problem. Okay, Lexi, you’re up. I want you to take your time, load the gun, then holster it. Remember the rules and watch your finger.”

  “When I say go, draw the gun, finger on the frame, get a sight picture, focus on that front sight, then move your finger to the trigger. Keep that sight picture and press that trigger straight back. When it fires, I want you to put your finger on the frame and then lower the gun like I showed you. Finger first, then gun, then wait till I tell you to holster.”

  “Okay.” Lexi stood in front of the target and checked her stance, drew the gun and loaded it, then put the gun back in the holster. “Ready!”

  “Go!”

  Lexi’s hand moved to the grip of the gun. She paused just long enough to be sure her trigger finger was in the right spot, then drew the gun just like in dry fire practice. Her gun hand rose to meet her off hand and pushed forward toward the target. She found the sight picture, felt the trigger and squeezed. The gun fired, her arms bent at the elbow as the recoil forced her hands up. She got her sight picture again, then moved her finger off the trigger and aimed at the ground about five feet in front of the target.

  “Holster!”

  She tried to put the gun back without looking and almost got it. When she realized it wasn’t right, she looked at the holster and slid the gun home.

  “Excellent.”

  “Did I hit it? I don’t see a hole.”

  “Look right in the middle of the black circle, it’s okay just walk up and take a look.”

  Lexi took a few steps, squealed then ran up to the target. “Mom! Look, right in the middle!”

  “Okay, back in place. This time, draw and fire three shots, don’t rush it but don’t waste time either.”

  “Cool!” She bounced on her toes twice before settling into the squared off
stance Jack had taught them.

  Lexi got set up and waited for the command. When it came, she grabbed the gun with more confidence and got her sight picture quicker. The first two holes were touching the black. The last one was low.

  “Hey, what happened?”

  Jack went to stand beside her. “Hand me the gun, and put a little check mark next to that low one, then I’ll show you.”

  While she was busy with the pen, Jack swapped magazines. The new magazine had a red plastic dummy round under a live round. He put the magazine back in the gun. When Lexi came back, he handed her the weapon. “Is it loaded?”

  “It’s always loaded,” she said. “But I’ll check anyway.”

  “Good. Three more rounds same as last time. Go!”

  She wasn’t quite ready, but swung into position as she reached for the gun. She paused before pulling it, just long enough to plant her feet. The first round fired. As she squeezed for the next round, the gun dipped but didn’t fire. Lexi froze.

  “What happened?” asked Jack.

  “I don’t know! It just didn’t fire. The slide isn’t locked back either.”

  “But you felt the gun move didn’t you?”

  Lexi thought for a moment, then looked at Jack. “Just a sec.” She put the gun back in the holster before she turned to face him. “Yeah, I thought it was going to fire so…”

  “So you anticipated the recoil and tensed up. In your case, you also pushed the gun down. That’s probably what you did with the low one too. Although jerking the trigger will do that too. It’s a common problem. When I’m at home I train for that, after a while, you stop doing it.”

  “Oh… But why didn’t it fire?”

  “Show clear.”

  Lexi pulled the weapon, dropped the magazine and put it in her pocket, and then racked the slide to empty the chamber. She pulled back on the side a second time and pushed up on the slide lock. Sure the gun was now unloaded, she showed Jack the gun.

  “Good, load and holster. Then pick up that round you ejected.”

  The ejected round had a brass base, but the rest was red plastic and clearly not a real cartridge. “How’d that get in there?”

  “I put it there while you were messing with the target.”

  “But…. Why?”

  “Think about what happened. You expected the gun to fire, you jerked low, but nothing happened. You felt yourself move the gun for no reason.”

  “Is that how you know it’s happening?”

  “Yep, I get someone else to load about ten magazines, some of them will have snap caps in them at random positions. Practice, practice, practice. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough ammo to do that. So, we substitute with lots and lots of dry fire. Okay, back on the line, when you’re ready, empty the magazine, just keep thinking: front sight, press. Don’t anticipate. The thing you need to learn all the way to your bones is that you don’t move the gun while you’re pressing the trigger.”

  Lexi finished the magazine from ten feet, creating a small ragged hole with only that early round more than three inches off center. Jack ran Rachael through the same routine. Then once more each with snap caps, but this time, he told them to clear it and keep shooting.

  Before ending the session, Jack had each of them practice instinctive shooting. They drew and fired unsighted from five feet. Everything else was the same, except they didn’t wait for a clear sight picture. Three rounds as quick as they could. Unsurprising to Jack, the three rounds all stuck center of mass and could have been covered by a paper plate.

  “Okay, let’s wrap it up, put fresh mags in the guns, make sure they’re ready, then we’ll top off and call it a day.”

  “What do you want to do with the guns?” asked Lexi.

  “Just what I told you.”

  “You mean I get to keep it?” excitement, mixed with trepidation. She looked at her mom, seeking approval.

  “Jack, really? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Both of you have to start sometime, now is good. Lexi, if I see that gun out of the holster there had better be some serious trouble—or there will be.”

  “Okay, Jack.”

  Rachael shook her head in bemusement. She could tell by the tone of Lexi’s response that she wouldn’t touch the gun without need for fear of disappointing Jack. It had been much the same way with her dad. She was just surprised that Lexi was already responding to Jack. She’s a good judge of character. I hope we’re both right this time too.

  “Brian took us shooting a few times,” said Rachael. “I went along, for him. Lexi, well she loved doing anything with her dad. But… it was nothing like that. He was less rigid. Less organized I guess? I’m not sure, but it didn’t make me feel like I was safe. No, safe isn’t the right word, but… more confident I guess.”

  “Happens a lot, guys think they know how to handle guns because they’re guys. The army does an excellent job of training in rifle, but they barely touch on the pistol. I’ve taught over two hundred people how to shoot.”

  “Two hundred? — How? — Why?”

  “My friend Marty, he and his wife run an Inn and they get a lot of… Well, I call them City folk. People with a lot of money who have maybe held a gun a few times but never shot one. Or, more likely, they’ve never even held one. They come for the outdoors experience, the fishing, hiking, horseback riding, or whatever. Marty plays it up. They dress western, they ride horses, and they all carry six shooters. Without fail, someone will ask if the guns are real.”

  “Doesn’t that scare them?” asked Rachael. “I’d have been nervous I think.”

  “Surprisingly, no. At least not often. My theory is that it looks like part of a uniform, and people are used to seeing people in uniforms with guns. Someone almost always follows up with a request to try one. I’ve got a range on my property. It’s small, which is all I need to test guns I’m working on. Anyway, Marty brought them over to shoot. I thought he would argue when I insisted on a safety lecture before I’d let anyone on the range. Turns out the son of a… Well, he knew that’s what would happen. He planned on it. Basically, he dumped them in my lap.” Jack laughed at the memory. “I love the guy, but sometimes…”

  “It sounds like you guys are close.”

  “Sure, I’ve known Marty and Annie for twenty years, Steve and Ashly even longer. Henry and Ray, I’ve known only about twelve years. They’re all neighbors now. Henry is the gentleman who got me started on sustainable living. I’m happy to say, a bad economy and a bunch of Democrats in office worked well for me.”

  “But we, ah, they were trying to ban guns, how could that be good for you?”

  Jack laughed. “With the government, it’s always more about the unintended consequences than what they say they want. Registrations for concealed carry doubled in a lot of states. Gun sales went through the roof, at one point most of the manufacturers had a backlog of orders in the neighborhood of a million or more guns. Ammo sold so fast, it was very hard to find. All that anti-gun yammering, well even lifelong Democrats were out buying guns before they got banned. The truth is, most of them don’t want to see a ban.”

  “You don’t live in California,” said Rachael.

  “There’s California, and there’s the rest of the world.” Jack chuckled at Rachael’s expression.

  “Here’s another unintended consequence: who do you suppose a gun ban will hurt the most? If you’re thinking rich white men, you’d be wrong. Poor minorities, the ones who barely rate police service are the big losers. Oakland, Chicago, and Detroit have places where it’s the people who live in the neighborhood who patrol it. The cops won’t. It’s too risky for them with all the gang activity. And it’s worse now with the anti-cop sentiment that’s so common in depressed areas. So if they banned guns, and the cops are too scared to come into your neighborhood, what do they have left?”

  “But… Why don’t they bring that up in the news?”

  “Why would they? Most of the mainstream media are in the pocket of the
people who want to ban the guns. They’re not going to give you reasons you shouldn’t ban them. Come on Rachael, you don’t buy most of the crap they report in the news, do you?”

  “I guess I never really thought about it.”

  “Well, that’s pretty typical. People figure if the experts on TV say something it must be true. Besides, they’re too busy trying to get by.”

  “I think I paid more attention when I was young, but, oh my God, the things I used to think were good ideas.”

  “Yeah, when I was young my dad was brilliant, when I was a teenager, he was the stupidest person on earth. Sometime around my mid-twenties, he suddenly got smart again. Go figure.”

  Rachael laughed, a full body laugh, the first since they’d met. “I guess that pretty much describes growing up doesn’t it.”

  The next morning, they packed up and hit the road. They’d gone only a half mile before they found an abandoned truck. Dozens of empty beer bottles littered the truck bed and floor of the cab. Jack gave it a quick search for anything useful but found nothing worth keeping. He suspected it was the vehicle belonging to the two men he’d shot. He still had the keys in his pocket. He tried them, and they fit. Jack left them with the truck. Despite its age, and lack of computers to cause problems, the truck still needed a working battery to start.

  10

  GOING TO TOWN

  Jack kept them moving, but not too fast, about ten miles that day. They’d walk for two hours, then take a break. Rachael and Lexi would switch from new boots to running shoes, then back to boots. Even so, Jack had to get out the moleskin to fix a blister for Rachael.

  The next morning, they passed a small ranch Jack recognized from his time in the valley. They were close, and they’d hit town soon. He thought about camping one more night but the idea of wasting time and food kept him moving.

  JACK PULLED the binoculars from his chest pack and scanned the edge of the small town. There were dead cars parked in odd places. Someone had pushed them toward the sides of the road, clearing a path.