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𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐀 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

As promised, I'd went and visited Lilly each day to make sure my stitches stayed in tact and thankfully, the wound had healed nicely, to the point where the switches were able to be removed and I wasn't at risk of doing any more damage.

The skin surrounding the healed skin felt tight and a bit itchy at times but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

In the short week that passed, the weather had made a drastic turn from blistering heat to slightly warm in the day and biter cold in the night which made us all realize that fall was approaching quicker than any of us anticipated.

Somewhere in that time, I'd developed some sort of small relationship with the brunette.

She thankfully didn't push about my relationship with a particular Dixon and I was thankful for it, because there wasn't much to discuss regarding said topic but we would talk about things before the world died.

It was easy for the most part, reminiscing on the old times.

She's talked about being a doctor and many horror stories she'd seen while in the OR, her life before seemed like any other persons before.

When it came to my turn to tell her about my life, it was rather somber and I left out the parts in my short life where I was forced to take responsibility for two kids while my father lost himself in grief, but I was sure she could tell there was something deep inside I wasn't telling her but again, didn't push me to tell her more.

When she found out about my skills with a gun and knife, it peaked her curiosity and she nearly begged me to teach her how to shoot better.

And that's where we were now.

The women somehow had convinced my dad to take me out for some practice shooting, while her father, who's relationship with firearms was on the fence on the best of days wasn't too thrilled about the idea.

So, when the two of us stopped in the beat up red Chevy a few miles away from the farm to an empty pasture with a beat up old tire swing did we pulled out empty glass bottles to use for target practice.

I wasn't the best teacher and until now, I was always the one being told what to do, not the other way around.

"First, I want to see what you can do with a regular pistol." I told her and she nods passively as I grab the bag of guns and ammo my dad reluctantly let us borrow and grab my pistol from it.

I bring it closer to her and point first to the safety.

"Safety. On. Off." I demonstrate as I flick it on and off a few times to show her the difference and she nods.

I released the mag then, and hold it up for her.

"Always check your clip before doing anything. The last thing you want to do is be caught up in the middle of a group of these things and think you have more rounds than you actually do. A standard mag holds eight rounds, extended mags hold anywhere from twelve to fifteen. All depends on your extended mag and your gun." I explain and she nods as I reload the gun and cock it, locking a bullet into the chamber.

I hand her the gun then, and she gets into a stance to start shooting the glass bottles we'd set up before I stop her.

"You're way too tense. The whole idea is to be loose, ready to move at any given moment if you need too. Locking up everything can get you hurt if you need to get the fuck out." I tell her before nodding for her to hand me the pistol.