Роберт Уилсон - Days Since... - Jenny - Day 986

“How’d it feel?” Jenny muttered through her coat sleeve.

“Had a lot more kick than I thought it would,” Matt said. “Pretty big difference between the nine and that forty-five he found for you.”

“Definitely has some punch to it.” Danny chuckled. “I’m glad we were able to do it, but listen, when we’re back we can’t mention it. If I catch wind either of you were talking on it, it’s over, never again.”

“Deal.”

They continued with their small talk until another blast of cold air turned Jenny from the conversation. Walking with her back to the wind, she caught glimpse of a brown figure in the distance. Nearly sixty yards out, a doe stood steadfast, staring at them, but didn’t spook. A salt lick hidden between some fallen trees kept her tethered there by her craving.

“Danny,” she whispered. “Danny.”

The howls of wind suppressed her words, so she tugged at his sleeve. Then again, less subtly. Finally, he turned, and Jenny practically shoved him toward the doe. Danny dropped a knee to the snow and leveled his rifle downrange. “Good eye, Jenny.” He adjusted the scope then placed his hand to the stock, trigger finger now waiting.

I can do this. She kneeled. “Danny,” Jenny spoke into his ear, not to be disregarded.

“What?” He kept his eye through the scope.

“Let me do it.”

The rifle bounced with the scoff Danny let slip. “This is not the time for your bullshit.”

Jenny caught Matt shaking his head, pleading for her to drop it. Quit rolling over all the time. He doesn’t always have to do everything. “Listen, please,”—she put her hand on Danny’s back—“all that training you give me. Let me show you. Let me do it.”

Irritated, he jerked the rifle from his shoulder and twisted back toward her. He took a sharp breath in through gritted teeth, his eyes burning. Unflinchingly, she returned the favor. I’m not giving in.

Precious seconds passed. Danny toned down his death stare and passed the rifle to her. “The scope’s adjusted. Get it done.”

Never thought that would’ve worked. Shit… Now what? The rifle rattled in her hands, partly because of the cold, but her nerves certainly the majority of the reason. She had longed for this moment. A chance to prove herself. The chance to prove all that time spent training had not been wasted. But as she sat there in possession of the opportunity, doubt crept in. No. Don’t you dare. You asked for this. Get it done. Never miss when it counts. She braced the rifle and knelt.

“Lay behind this here”—Danny eased his ruck to the ground—“and prop the rifle across it. Settle in for your shot. Remember to breathe.” Jenny creaked her way into the snow. “Don’t lock up. You need to breathe until you’re ready to fire.”

“Got it.”

“Jenny… That’s a lot of meat. No pressure, but don’t fuck it up.”

“Thanks…”

“You got this,” Matt whispered to her. “You got this.”

Taking several exaggerated breaths, she mustered a calm demeanor, her nerves, her breathing now in a more suitable state. Jenny placed the rifle atop the rucksack and pulled the buttstock into the nook of her shoulder as she was taught. I do got this… The rifle creased her cheek. One eye shut, the other viewing through the scope. The crosshairs danced across the deer’s chest. Steady. Come on. She braced the rifle tighter—her aim traced a slow, inconsequential figure eight over the beast.

Oblivious to their intentions, the doe’s head remained down, switching between the salt lick and the fallen trees, nibbling at the moss. Jenny emptied her lungs. Consistent. Stay consistent. Her index finger slid from along the stock and onto the trigger. She kept her grip on the forestock loose, allowing the rucksack to serve its purpose. Her mind began to wander as she studied the beast.

I’ve never taken a life. I’ve never really even pointed a gun at another living thing. The muzzle continued to sway across the doe’s chest. You always wonder if you could. All this training. Now, I’ve got to, right? Right? She could feel her companions’ eyes on her, more than likely wondering what the hell she was thinking.

What is taking me so long? Okay… Here we go. One more swoop, then I go.

But before she could, Sherman whined and the deer reacted, popping its head upright. The abrupt change in the beast’s demeanor startled Jenny. Her finger jerked. The rifle went off. Sharply, the doe’s front legs buckled, almost collapsing before she gathered her footing and tore off in between the trees.

“I think you got it!” Matt shouted.

Jenny clambered to her feet, throwing the rifle’s sling over her head and gave chase. Matt tore off after her. They had only managed twenty yards before Danny called them back. Their faces turned, both twisted with disbelief. “What? Why?” Jenny asked. “We’ve got to hurry!”

“Hurry for what?” Danny said, hefting his ruck onto his back.

What now? Frustrated, Jenny threw her head back. Even from this distance, she could see Danny’s face—his smug look of knowing better than she did. She shouted back, “I shot it! Let me finish what I started!”

“Settle down, kid!” His tone somewhat demeaning. “That deer’s gonna tire itself out and die. All we have to do is follow that bright, red trail through the bright, white snow, and we’ll get there. I think you two can handle that, but if you’re so worried about losing her, remember, we have ol’ Sherm here to sort it all out if we need him to.”

“Alright…” Jenny rolled her gaze to Matt, his eyes affixed to hers. A proud grin on his face let her know he felt it too, sharing in this sense of accomplishment. “You did it,” he whispered. “I was nervous as shit, but you did it.”

She nodded and spun back toward where the deer had been shot. And although she tried, Jenny was unable to keep from charging off—her eagerness, her excitement too much. It felt good. Different. With a tinge of authority, she stomped through the snow, the adrenaline still flowing through her body. A bit of her success filling her head with confidence. Wow. First time and I nailed it.

They came to where the salt lick lay between the downed trees, and immediately, Jenny noticed the spatter of blood splashed across the fresh snow, the depressions where the doe had buckled against the ground. From behind, Matt embraced her in a full hug, lifting her feet off the ground. “You definitely got it!”

“Alright, alright, act like you’ve done it before, ya goofballs.” Danny let the slack out from Sherman’s lead to let him wander about and visit with a few trees. “Once he’s finished, you need to take the lead. Get us to your kill.”

Jenny studied the doe’s hurried tracks into the woods—red drops intermingled with the path. This will be too easy now.

“Oh, and I’m going to need my rifle back,” Danny reminded her. “Don’t look so sour. You still have your pistol.” She handed the long gun back to him. “Thanks. Now, go on. Lead.”

After a short track of only a quarter mile or so, Jenny came upon the body—the brown heap curled up near a stump. She rushed ahead, coming to the downed beast first.

It lay there. Peaceful. Lifeless. Specks of white melted against her still, warm body. She stared at it. The deer’s blank gaze was haunting—her black eyes filled with the void of death. Jenny’s lips quivered however slight. She bit into them to suppress the urge to feel guilty or worse, cry. Look how sad it is. I didn’t think it’d look like that.

Danny would be there soon, standing beside her with judgment if he saw her in this remorseful state. It’s just a deer. What if you have to shoot a person? What then? The world was tough, and she’d been pushing herself along to match it. It wasn’t easy. She had always found happiness in life. This hardship was still very foreign to her.