Note: the formatting for my stories is always done for livejournal, so they tend to look kind of funny when uploaded here. To combat that, I recommend viewing it at the 3/4 format, which you can do by clicking the little "3/4" button in the upper right hand corner. :D
They make camp several hours after leaving the flea market in a huge, overturned concrete pipe. A heavy leftover from one of the many factories in the surrounding area, they find it by chance, just a gray edge poking through tangles of weeds and mud, and though they both could have walked a good deal longer, Denmark deemed it time to break for the day on the grounds that finding better shelter would be unlikely. He immediately sets to laying out their belongings in the center of the tube before Sealand can vote yay or nay on the dirty, old thing.
"It's still pretty early," he says after they've both eaten. "Wanna learn how to load the rifle?"
Tired as he is, the prospect of firearm education perks him right up and he nods, enthusiastic, and wiggles out of his goggles and hood while Denmark pulls the rifle up and moves to the front of the pipe where the smallest bit of light still trickles in through the web of overgrown roots. He motions for Peter to sit down in front of him and circles his arms around his waist, the rifle set in the boy's lap, and points to the base of the forestock.
"All right, first things first. Before y'can shoot it, there has to be bullets in it."
"Duh."
"Quiet you." He turns the gun sideways and points to a small latch at the head of the trigger guard. "Now, this one has a built in magazine, so you have to load it manually. Just switch that and the plate will swing out."
"Okay..." Peter follows his instructions and the plate pops open, two rounds dropping into his lap. Denmark picks them up and holds them in his hand while he continues.
"Next, you have to clear out your chamber." He draws Peter's hand up to close around the bolt handle. "Open up the breech by pulling the bolt up and then as far back as it'll go." He guides their hands back. "Like that."
Sealand nods and Denmark lets him try it by himself, humming in approval when he gets it back on his first try and ejects the unused cartridge. Denmark catches it in his palm and sets it down in front of them.
"Good job. Okay, loading it is pretty easy. All you have to do is push them down into the magazine. This one holds five bullets, but since we've only got three, you can load them all." He demonstrates once. "See? Piece of cake. Now you try it."
"Finland showed me how to do this once on a newer rifle," he says quietly as he carefully presses the second round in. "It was a lot smoother."
"Yeah, well, this one is a piece of shit. I found it in the back of a boat house, so you can't really expect much." He's quiet for a moment, watching as Peter loads the last round and snaps the plate back in place. "Tell you what, though, I don't know a single person who can load a rifle faster than Tino. He and I used to go shooting sometimes and I'd always leave embarrassed because he'd show me up like you wouldn't believe."
"He said you were a piss-poor shot."
"Watch your mouth." He turns the rifle back over. "And I am. I don't like guns."
"How come?"
"They just aren't my style." He says sourly. "I spent so long fighting with swords and axes that when guns came along, they just weirded me out. They still do. Anyway, next thing you do is just push the bolt forward as far as it goes and then close it up. That'll strip a bullet from the magazine and you'll be good to fire it as long as the safety is off."
"Is the safety off?"
"Fuck no. You're twelve."
"I am not!"
