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I had almost forgotten how well guns fit into my hand.
The one I held now was a Glock 18, as Yeeun had duly informed me, and I was surprised at how beautiful it looked. Wherever I looked, there were guns, the spark of a blade here, the glint of a bullet there. At first, I thought I hated the sight of the gun—the thing that had killed my father and had threatened to kill the people I loved, but the hatred didn't stay. Perhaps I thought that I didn't deserve to hate it.
After all, it didn't matter what you killed a person with, as long as you killed them.
"This isn't your first shootout, is it?" Yeeun asked, raising an eyebrow. She looked smooth and unruffled, not a trace of worry on her face. Or maybe it was that atmospheres like this was what gave her comfort, not normal life, where deaths weren't something to expect every waking moment. "I heard there was one back in Seoul, too, three years ago."
I nodded listlessly, remembering the sight from all those years ago. Despite all the years that had passed, I could still recall the sounds of the fight with almost perfect clarity. There had been no casualties on our side, but I had lost someone, too. Yeosang.
With a shiver, I glanced back at Vernon, who was conversing with Lucas, their heads bent together as they discussed something I couldn't hear. He had been the one to kill him, but I didn't feel anything negative towards him because I now knew he was only trying to keep me as safe as possible. Although his methods were unorthodox, the intent was clear.
"I didn't participate in the shooting, though," I said, turning back to Yeeun, who was still watching me intently. I curled my fingers around air, remembering the way the pocketknife had felt in my hands as I'd sunk the blade into Yeosang's thigh. I wasn't innocent, either. There had been blood on my hands even before I had gotten around to the actual killing. "So this may as well be my first time."
"There isn't much you need to know," Yeeun replied, surprising me. I had expected the instructions to be too many to remember. "Keep your eyes open, and your head bent low. There will most probably be people ahead of you because we're supposed to be circling around you, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything."
I arched my eyebrows as she hefted a rifle and leaned over it, checking the action. "What can I do?"
"Make sure you don't shoot us by accident," she said dryly, and I smiled a wry smile. She pushed away her curtain of blonde hair and looked at me with something close to relish. "That's another rule. Don't point at anything you're not supposed to shoot, ever. Even if your finger is away from the trigger and the guard."
"Am I supposed to know what a guard is?"
"Just stay away from anywhere near the trigger," she answered, and I grinned. I had thought I'd be more afraid, or at least wary, when the time to leave came, but the only thing I felt was a reluctant acceptance, mixed in with the need to behave more at peace than usual. "I know you can use a gun, which is why they agreed to arm you. For close range, stick to knives. People on the other side will be reluctant to hurt you."
