Robert Parker - Wilderness

He pulled the trigger and the hammer snapped down on the empty chamber.

"Okay," he said, "you do it."

She took the gun and pushed the retracting handle on the bolt back. She let it go and it slid forward. Then she pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. Snap.

"Good," he said.

"Why don't I hold it in the other hand and push the who sis back? It's awkward to reach across like that." "Bolt," he said. "Because then you'd be holding it lefthanded, and you don't want to. You are right-handed and want to be ready to shoot and not switch the thing back and forth. You can do it like this too, if you want to."

He held the butt of the carbine against his thigh, his left hand on the stock forward of the trigger housing. With his right he snapped the bolt back. He snapped the trigger and handed the gun back to her. She tried running the bolt back as he'd shown her.

"I like the first way better," she said.

"Okay, but make sure, whichever way, that you don't end up trying to shoot left-handed."

"Okay. What next? Pretend it's loaded. I run the who sis back." "The bolt," he said.

"The bolt. I run the bolt back and let it go forward. Then I aim it."

She put the carbine to her shoulder. "And pull the trigger." "Good," he said. "I don't know how you'll be shooting. If it's at close range and sudden, you'll shoot any way you can. Otherwise you may as well learn the right way." He took the gun.

"Get it against your shoulder, then hold it with your left hand and reach up with your right toward the sky, like this, and then keep your elbow pointed up and reach down and grip it with your right hand like this. You don't want your elbow down in against you like this. You want it up and out like this."

"It looks awkward," she said.

"A little, but be comfortable, don't strain, just keep the elbow out and up as much as you can. Move your left hand down the stock a little farther. No, toward the front. Good."

"Now I shoot?"

"Not yet. Pick out something, a leaf, a rock, whatever. Aim the gun so the leaf or whatever it is sits on the sight, in between the two outside wings and on top of the center thing. You see? See it? How if you get it right it sits up there, almost seems to magnify?"

"Okay."

"Now breathe out, and don't inhale. Aim, take up the slack in the trigger, now squeeze the trigger, slowly." Snap.

"Can I inhale?"

"Yes. The Army had a little code for it you could say to yourself: BASS. Breathe, Aim, Slack, Squeeze. Don't jerk the trigger, squeeeeeze it, you know?"

She nodded. "Then I push the who sis back?" "Bolt," he said. "No. From there on until the gun is empty you just keep pulling the trigger. The explosion of the weapon will push the bolt back and eject the spent shell and put a new round in the chamber and cock the hammer."

"So, pretend it's loaded, I slide the thing back. Breathe, Aim, Slack, Squeeze." Snap.

She repeated the process several times.

"I think she's got it," he said, "by God, I think she's got it."

"Let me practice putting the clip in."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I'll put it in for you when you need it."

"I want to know how myself, Aaron."

"Oh, for cris sake "Aaron, I have to be able to do it if you're not there."

He took the clip out of his pocket and looked at her for a long time.

"Yes," he said. "Of course you do. I might get shot. You might be alone."

The hum of the insects was steady in the clearing. More of them now that the sun was going down. They buzzed and bit, and both Newman and Janet waved them away automatically and almost continuously.

"You just slip it up in, like this. Then slap it home. Just make sure the bullets are pointing in the right direction, the barrel end, not the stock. To release it you press this little button like here." She did as he said.

"You remember all this from the Army?" she said.

"Yeah. They have an excellent pedagogical technique. They threaten you and they mean it. Fear is underrated as a motivator."

She smiled. "Isn't that what's motivating us?" "Yes," he said. "It surely is."

"I was in town," Hood said, "while you were out firing, and I picked up some more supplies."

"We weren't actually firing, Chris, we were just snapping the hammer." "You know what I mean," Hood said. "Now here's how I've set things up.

The guns are all loaded, so be careful. There's a long gun and a handgun for each of us. Janet gets the carbine and the.32, they're the lightest weapons. I'll take the Springfield and the.45; Aaron, you get the Winchester and the P-%8. I've also organized three knapsacks. In each one there's a dozen granola bars, matches in waterproof wrap, extra ammo for both guns, but only for your own so you have to keep the sacks straight. I've put our names on them."

Newman looked at the green nylon knapsack. Across the back, between the padded straps, it said Aaron in black ink.

"I used indelible ink so it wouldn't run if we sweat. There's also a roll of nylon cord, a roll of toilet paper, a small first-aid kit, a flashlight, and a down vest. The vest is rolled up inside the nylon pullover parka. In the late summer it gets cold up here at night, and maybe you'll need it. You should put in some dry socks and clean underwear, or whatever you might want. But this is for emergencies, so you don't want to travel heavy. Anything I forgot?"

"If it's an emergency," Newman said, "you better put in more toilet paper. I may shit myself."

Hood shook his head. "Don't kid around about this, Aaron. You've got to be ready, and you've got to cover everything. You should always be wearing clothes you'd be willing to live in in the woods. Jeans, boots, good shirt. If your feet get wet, change at once, get into dry socks, never get caught. You can't tell when we'll have to move sudden."

"How about insect repellent," Newman said.

Hood stood motionless. "Jesus, I'm slowing up. Yeah, of course, insect repellent. I got some in town." He went to the kitchen and returned. "How the hell could I have forgotten that?" he said. "Here, I'm putting one in each bag."

Newman looked at the three knapsacks laid out neatly, the three long guns to the right of each knapsack, the three pistol belts were rolled and laid out to the left of each knapsack.

"I also stuck a small first-aid kit in each bag. Bandages, antiseptic, some aspirin," Hood said.

"Chris, that's wonderful," Janet said. "You've thought of everything." "I don't like forgetting the bug dope," Hood said. "I shouldn't forget anything." "How about a canteen?" Newman said.

"No need," Hood said. "The lake's drinkable, and there's a lot of streams, and the Saco River runs clean here. Canteen just weigh you down for nothing."

Hood wore hiking boots, Levi's, and a tan Levi work shirt. As he talked he stared out the living room window toward Karl's camp on the island a half mile away. It was nearly dark and some light showed through the trees from the cabin. Hood picked up his pistol belt and strapped it around his waist. "It would make sense if we wore these all the time. Be ready in case we're surprised. We won't be…" He thought for a minute, couldn't find the right word, shrugged, and said, "You know."

Newman picked up the other two belts. He handed one to Janet and put the other one on. "Here," he said to Janet, "you adjust it this way.

See, you slide this along then put the little hook in here." Together they adjusted the pistol belt. The.32 looked somewhat undersized on the broad web belt.

"Pistol-packin" momma," Newman said.

Janet smiled. Hood stared steadily out the window at the lights on Karl's island.

"Tomorrow," Hood said. "Tomorrow we'll set up a shooting spot and watch the island all the time, take turns. They have to row out there, and we should have a nice clean shot at them when they do. And remember, when we do it, then we get in the car and go. We keep all our clothes and stuff in the car. When we go we take the guns, the bedrolls, and the knapsacks, and drive away. The minute we stop shooting."