Revenge Of The Hunter

Fight The Pain Away

1.

Then

I gripped the rifle once again, adjusting my position before looking through the scope. I clenched my jaw tightly, trying to ignore the pain of the heavy weapon against my shoulder. I knew if I said something or looked as if I were in pain, he'd say something. I didn't want to hear his mouth bitch again. His voice drilled through my head like the drill sergeant he ached to be.

"Line it up. Take a deep breath and hold it in, exhale after you push the trigger."

I closed my eyes for moment, feeling the soft breeze fly by. I had to adjust the calculations. Thankfully I was skilled at this part.

"Richard, what are you two doing?"

I heard my uncle's voice from a few feet away. I didn't dare to look away from the target that was a mile into the woods.

"Training her, what does it look like?" My father grunted.

Once I fixed the calculations so the wind wouldn't interfere, I looked through the scope once more, my blue eyes lined up with the wooden target in site.

I inhaled and pressed the trigger. The bullet flying out, cutting through the air and passing the large tree's while the recoil of the weapon made me grunt as I bit back a pained yelp. I exhaled, seeing the bullet hit the target in the center. Much better than the first time around as I missed the center by three inches.

"Training a ten year old with a highly dangerous military rifle? For what?" My uncle's voice boomed through the space between us.

I finally sat up, rolling my pained shoulder with a wince before I looked toward my father and uncle. My father put down the binoculars with a grin and nodded in satisfaction.

"How many ten year old girl's you know that can make that shot, huh?" My father asked as he looked over at my uncle, a hint of a proud smile on his face.

I swallowed hard and stood up, carrying the heavy weapon with both hands towards the men folk. "Hey Uncle Frank." I greeted.

My father took the rifle from me. "Thats enough for today, sweetheart. Go wash up for dinner. I think your mother is making pork chops tonight."

I nodded at him and smiled up at my uncle. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks. He's usually over once or twice a week, takes Bryan and I out someplace fun. He bent down a bit and I hugged him tightly. I can see he was pissed at my dad, but he hide it well around me.

"I missed you, boogerface." His British accent made me laugh.

"Missed you too, teacup."

We pulled away from each other and I walked into the house before my father had to repeat himself.

My mom was in the kitchen already cooking, Bryan setting the table. Mom told me to wash up, that dinner was almost ready, while Bryan just gave me a quick glance. He understood. Dad never pushed the training hard on him like he did with me. He hated the training.

Walking into the bathroom to wash my hands that were filled with grease and dirt, I heard my father and uncle Frank arguing from the open window. After I washed the soap off, I turned off the water to eavesdrop better.

"She's only ten years old, Richard. Let her be a kid for once!"

"Don't tell me how to raise my daughter, Frank. She's old enough to train."

"For what? The apocalypse?"

"You know damn well what's out there Frank. My kids are going to save lives like we have."