Stephenie Meyer - The Chemist

“No, I did, thanks.”

“I didn’t know you were handy. And when did you have the chance to do this, what with toppling cartels and all that?”

“Downtime between jobs. I can’t sit still or I go crazy.”

He closed up the fake tire and then gestured to the car shell near where Daniel had been standing before. “Lift the top of the battery and type in the same code. That one’s rifles, the next is rocket launchers and grenades.”

Daniel laughed, then caught his brother’s expression. “Wait, really?”

“She likes preparation; I like to be extremely well armed. Okay, now, this one I couldn’t hide so well, and anyway, it’s the kind of thing I might need quickly.”

Kevin walked around the side of the massive hay tower, and they followed. The tarp hung to the ground on this side. She was pretty confident she knew at least the category of what he was hiding here, and sure enough, he lifted the tarp to reveal a cozy garage behind the hay with a very large vehicle wedged inside. From the way he stood, it was obviously his pride and joy.

“There’s a truck back at the ranch that blends in, but this is here in case of emergencies.”

Daniel made a small noise like a hiccup. Alex glanced at him and realized he was trying not to laugh. She got the joke immediately.

They had both dealt with DC traffic for years, though he more recently. And despite the congestion and tight parking options that were more suited for a Vespa than a medium-size sedan, there was always that one guy trying to shove his gigantic compensation-mobile into a parallel slot. As if anyone needed a Hummer anywhere, let alone in the city. You might as well just get a vanity plate that read D-BAG and be done with it.

When Daniel saw her mouth twitch, he lost his own control. Suddenly he was snorting with laughter. It was an awkward, infectious heh-heh-snort-heh-heh that was much funnier than the military monster truck. She started chortling along, surprised at how out of control the laughter felt almost immediately. She hadn’t laughed big like this in so long; she’d forgotten how it grabbed your whole body and wouldn’t let go.

Daniel had one hand on the hay while he bent over, the other hand on his side like he had a stitch. It was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.

“What?” Kevin demanded. “What?”

Daniel tried to calm himself to answer, but then a sudden burst of giggles from Alex derailed him, and he guffawed again, gasping for air between outbursts.

“This is a state-of-the-art assault vehicle,” Kevin complained, half shouting to be heard over their frenzied hilarity. “It has solid rubber tires and missile-proof glass. There are panels through the whole body that a tank can’t crush. This thing could save your life.”

He was just making it worse. Tears streamed down both their faces. Alex’s lip was protesting and her cheeks ached. Daniel was hiccupping for real now, unable to straighten up.

Kevin threw up his hands in disgust and stomped away from them.

They busted up again.

Finally, several long minutes after Kevin had disappeared, Alex started to be able to breathe. Daniel’s laughter was trailing off as well, though he was still holding his side. She could sympathize; she had a cramp, too. Oddly exhausted, she sat down on the hay-strewn floor and put her head between her knees, working to even out her breathing. After a second, she felt Daniel settle next to her. His hand came to rest lightly on her back.

“Ah, I needed that.” He sighed. “It was starting to feel like nothing would ever be really funny again.”

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. My stomach hurts.”

“Mine too.” And then he laughed another heh-heh-heh.

“Don’t start,” she begged.

“Sorry, I’ll try. I might be a little hysterical.”

“Huh. Maybe we should slap each other.”

He laughed another burst, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Stop,” she moaned.

“Should we talk about sad things?” he wondered.

“Like living a life of isolation and fear, hunted every minute of the day?” she suggested.

It felt like the murky barn got even darker, and she immediately regretted speaking. Even if it hurt, it had felt so nice to laugh.

“That’s a good one,” Daniel said quietly. “How about letting down all the people who count on you?”

“Doesn’t really apply for me, but it’s definitely a depressing idea. Though in your case, I doubt anyone will look at it that way. They’ll probably think you’ve been murdered. Everyone will be heartbroken and they’ll leave flowers and candles in front of the school marquee.”

“Do you think they will?”

“Sure. There will probably even be teddy bears.”

“Maybe. Or maybe no one will miss me. Maybe they’ll say, ‘Finally, we got rid of that joker and now we can hire a real history teacher. The girls’ volleyball team might actually have a chance with him out of the way. You know what? Let’s just find a chimp to do his job and put his salary into the retirement fund.’”

She nodded with false gravity. “You could be right.”

He smiled, then was serious again. “Did anyone burn candles for you?”

“There wasn’t really anyone left to care. If Barnaby had been the one to survive, he might have lit a candle for me. I did a few times for him, in cathedrals. I’m not Catholic, but I couldn’t figure out another place where I could do it inconspicuously. I know Barnaby’s not around to care, but I needed something. Closure, mourning, whatever.”

A pause. “Did you love him?”

“Yes. Aside from my work – and you’ve seen how warm and cuddly that was – he was all I had.”

Daniel nodded. “Well, I don’t feel like laughing anymore.”

“We probably needed the release. Now we can get back to our regularly scheduled depression.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Hey, Moe and Curly,” Kevin called from outside the barn. “Are you ready to get back to work, or do you want to giggle like schoolgirls a little while longer?”

“Um, giggle, I guess?” Daniel called back.

She couldn’t help it – she snickered.

Daniel put his hand gently over her bruised mouth. “None of that, now. We’d better go see what work there is to do.”

Kevin kept a firing range set up behind the barn, facing the river. Alex eyed it suspiciously, but she had to concede that random gunshots were probably less likely to arouse attention in rural Texas than anywhere else in the world.

“When’s the last time you picked up a gun?” he asked Daniel.

“Hmm… with Dad, I guess.”

“Seriously?” Kevin heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose all we can do is hope you remember something.”

He’d brought out an array of weapons and laid them on a hay bale. Other hay bales, each stacked to a man’s height and wearing printed black silhouettes, were arranged at varying distances from their position. Some were so far off she could barely make them out.

“We could start with the handguns, but what I’d like is to try you on some rifles. The best way to stay safe is to be shooting from very, very far away. I’d rather keep you out of the close-up stuff if I can.”

“These don’t look like any rifles I’ve ever used,” Daniel said.

“They’re snipers. This one” – he patted the McMillan he wore slung across his back – “has the record for the longest distance kill at over one mile.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How do you even know who you want to kill from that far away?”

“Spotters, but don’t worry about that. You don’t need to learn that kind of distance. I just want you to be able to sit in a perch and pick people off if it comes to that.”