Anarchy [ Watty's 2016 ]

III: Jade

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up to what smelled like the most delicious thing in the world. And, honestly, there is nothing that could wake me up quicker than the smell of food. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, surprised to find myself on my couch; the sun was only just starting to rise, and the sky was a light gray. I was about to yell, Hey, mom, what's for breakfast? When I remembered that my parents weren't there.

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed—I decided to wear my gray hoodie over a tank top, with jeans and Converse—I slid down the banister and landed at the base of the stairs. I could see what was cooking now; it looked like chocolate chip scones with bacon on the side. Alex was standing in the kitchen, messing with pots and pans, altogether looking very professional.

"When did you learn how to cook?" I asked, walking up behind her. "I thought you were culinary-challenged."

"I am," Alex said matter-of-factly. "I found this ready-made scone mix. And the bacon grease attacked me at least twelve times during the process."

I chuckled. "What time is it? How long have you been up?"

She considered the question for a moment. "About two hours. It's—what?—seven-thirty right now." At my surprised look, she added, "Well, something woke me up around five, and I couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to get ready. See?" she gestured at the food as well as herself, and I noticed she'd changed clothes. Her strawberry-blonde hair looked freshly washed, and was pulled back in a braid.

"Impressive. Uh, where'd you get the clothes?"

"I keep some in my bag," she explained, pointing.

"I'm not even going to question how I slept through all of that," I said.

"Good." She grabbed a plate and piled bacon on it. "Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in."

Seeing no point in turning down food, I took a couple scones and a few—by few I mean about twenty—pieces of bacon.

After breakfast, since Alex was done already, I finished getting ready. When it was about eight-thirty, we both left for class. Hey, the world keeps on spinning, no matter the circumstances.

The school day was uneventful, as usual, but that didn't matter. I met Alex in the underground a while after school ended, so that nobody was there. I had enough time to grab my BB revolver and combat knife before she ushered me into a room I'd passed the previous day, one that I'd noticed was like an indoor shooting range; on one side of the room were shelves filled with various guns. They looked real.

"Is there going to be an explanation?" I asked.

Alex snorted. I noticed she was wearing a vest over her shirt. "Do you really need one? You're gonna need to know how to shoot."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, I put the earplugs and over-the-head earmuffs on, and took out my revolver. I took aim at one of the targets, cocked the hammer, and fired. I missed dead center by about an inch, but it was good enough for me.

Alex's expression was pretty rewarding, although I don't know what she'd thought I could do. She should've had some idea of what to expect, considering I had my own BB. I took off the earmuffs so I could hear her. When she finally snapped out of it, all she could say was, "Wow. Impressive."

I shrugged and put the BB down. "Well, you could've guessed, considering. But, anyways, still wanna teach me?"

She folded her arms. "Well, can you shoot a real gun?" she asked pointedly.

"Define 'real'," I replied, unfazed by her tone. "You mean 'real' as in scope-less hunting rifles, shotguns, and small handguns, or 'real' as in snipers and assault rifles?"

"Uh, the latter?" I felt bad about showing off, since she had seemed so eager to teach me. Luckily for her, I—and it should've been obvious, considering hunting is actually quite different that full out war—I'd never used either of those.

"Well, then show me," I said, gesturing at the weapon rack.

She picked one of the assault rifles—an M16, which is quite possibly the most iconic semi-automatic out there—aimed, and fired a full clip into the target dummies. I felt kind of bad for them, honestly. The bullets sprayed everywhere, but I noticed that nearly all of them hit near or on the center. I whistled, impressed.

"All right," I said. "You can have that. I'd rather not have to use a full on assault rifle, if I'm honest. Hand me a sniper?" She did, then pressed a button. The furthest wall retracted to reveal a longer corridor, a good hundred meters long. At the end, I could just make out a target. It looked like it was small even up close.

I laid down on my stomach, propped the gun on the bipod, and looked through the scope. It was decent, with clean lines and clear glass, and the rifle itself was well balanced, although it was way too bulky for hunting. I aimed for the center and fired.

Now, I've fired shotguns, and even hunting rifles before. The first time I'd fired those, I'd thought their recoil was bad. This was worse. I wasn't expecting it to be anywhere near as strong as it was. Shotguns, they kick up, but not that far back. When I fired the rifle, it kicked up just a little, but it went back hard. If I hadn't been wearing such a thick-fabric hoodie, I would've ended up with much more than just a bruise. Thank goodness I'd had the foresight to avoid pressing my eye against the scope, or I'd be wearing an eyepatch for more than just next Halloween.

After I slowed my heartrate a bit after that bit of excitement, I looked back through the scope. I'd missed the target completely. Not to be outdone, I took a deep breath and fired again. Now that I knew what to expect, I wasn't pushed as far by the rifle as the first time. This time, I'd managed to hit the target dead center. I was pretty sure it was just dead luck, but I wasn't going to tell Alex that.

I'd thought she'd tease me for my first shot, but I think she was too impressed by my second. I stood up and rolled my shoulder, which was starting to ache, and said, "I think I'll stick with pistols for now. Especially since this whole ARCHANGEL thing seems a bit too...mobile for a sniper."

Alex nodded, and handed me a semi-automatic pistol—an SW1911, which made me happy, since my own revolver was an S&W. I looked it over and muttered, "Nine millimeter, huh?" A few test shots proved that it was in excellent condition. I glanced over at Alex, who had noticed my reaction to the pistol's brand, and was smiling slightly.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" she asked, holding up her hands. "Y'know that's yours, if you choose."

"Really?" I said skeptically. "Why?"

"Well, it's your personal weapon for use in the field. Everyone gets one. And you can't exactly go in with a BB gun, now can you?"

I shrugged. "I never really thought of that. I—"

A loud beep cut me off, and Alex sighed. "Call to arms." I had to hastily tuck the pistol into my waistband as she practically dragged me to the meeting room.