“Wow,” A voice yelled behind me as soon as I’d finished emptying the magazine in my gun. I jumped at the sudden, unexpected voice and spun around, careful to aim the gun at the ground even though it was empty now.
“Chloe.” I frowned as I yanked my protective ear equipment off. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people at a gun range.”
“I didn’t,” she replied. “I’ve been standing here for a while. And the gun’s empty now anyway, right? I counted the shots.”
“Still,” I grumbled. I was pretty careful when it came to handling guns, but it wasn’t uncommon for accidents to occur at gun ranges due to people being careless.
“Anyway,” she continued, “that was so cool. You hit him in the bullseye every single time.”
I smiled proudly as I pulled the target back in so I could examine it. My bullets had torn a clean hole through the very center of the figure’s chest. Marksmanship was one of the few skills I didn’t feel any hesitation bragging about. I was a great shot.
“Let me see,” a different voice chimed in as the paper was snatched out of my hands. I turned around to find Bette scrutinizing my work with a scowl.
“Oh, yay, Bette’s here,” Chloe cooed sarcastically.
Bette glared at her before shoving the paper back at me.
“Not bad.” She shrugged before slipping a pair of shooting earmuffs over her ears and unholstering her own gun. She turned away from us then and began to focus on her own target.
“Do you want to try?” I asked Chloe, who was still glowering at Bette.
“Huh?” she asked blankly. “Oh, uh, not really. I mean, it looks fun, but I’m not that great of a shot.”
Chloe wasn’t a field agent, so she didn’t have as much experience using a firearm as Bette and I did. She would have had to pass some basic tests in order to become a federal agent, but otherwise, it wasn’t really a requirement for agents who only worked in the office.
“That’s okay.” I smiled encouragingly. “Even if you miss, it’s still fun. It’s a great way to relieve stress.”
I could tell by the glint in her eyes as she looked down at the gun in my hands that she wanted to.
“Okay.” She nodded as a smile broke out across her face. “I’ll try it.”
I reloaded the gun and showed her how to put on the protective earmuffs before standing back and letting her get to it. Her stance was good, and she seemed confident. The second she pulled the trigger, though, I cringed. She missed the target entirely. Not just the outline printed onto the sheet of paper, but the entire paper itself.
“Oh no.” She frowned sullenly.
“It’s okay.” I hurried to reassure her. “It’s been a while since you shot a gun, right? It’s normal to be a little rusty. Just try it again.”
“Okay.” She grinned at my encouragement.
She fired again, and even though she still missed the figure, she at least hit the paper this time.
“I got it!” She announced gleefully, and I bit my lip to suppress a chuckle at her enthusiasm.
“What are you cheering for?” Bette huffed from the next booth. “That was horrible. Are you even aiming?”
I frowned at her. Chloe was just having some fun. Why did Bette have to be so mean?
“I swear,” Chloe sighed, “you act like a teenage girl sometimes, Bette.”
She’d snapped at Bette, but she’d put the gun down anyway, so I could tell that Bette’s comment had upset her. Bette just rolled her eyes and resumed shooting her own target.
“Come on.” I prompted Chloe as I put my gun back into my holster. “I know somewhere else we can practice shooting.”
“Are you sure we should leave?” Chloe asked as I guided her out of the range and back up to the main floor of the building. “It’s still technically the middle of the workday.”
“Well, I won’t tell if you won’t.” I smirked. “Besides, my partner’s MIA right now anyway, and I can’t do much until he gets back. It’ll be fine.”
“All right,” Chloe replied nervously. She cast one last look back at the building as we stepped into the parking lot.
Honestly, it wasn’t really like me to ditch work either, but Chloe had looked so sad after Bette’s mean remark that I felt compelled to do something about it. Worst-case scenario, I could call this a team-building exercise. I was just trying to boost my fellow agent’s morale, that’s all.
Forty minutes later, we were strapping on vests and helmets and getting ready to go into a large field filled with an assortment of small and large objects we could use as cover.
“Are you sure about this?” Chloe asked nervously for about the hundredth time.
“It’ll be fine.” I grinned. “Paintball is fun. You’ll be able to practice your aim and getting hit with paintball doesn’t hurt nearly as much as getting hit with a bullet.”
“Wait,” she yelped as she snapped her head around to look at me through the thick goggles of her helmet. “So it does hurt?”
“Only a little,” I replied after a moment of hesitation. “I’ll go easy for the first round, okay? The farther away you are, the less it hurts, so just keep moving.”
“Fine,” she grumbled as she fidgeted with her paintball gun.
I did go easy on her for the first round, since she was still figuring out how to play. By the second round, she felt confident enough that I didn’t feel bad about beating her. As soon as the third round started, it was like a switch got flipped.
All of a sudden, it seemed as though she didn’t care how many times she got hit. Her only focus appeared to be hitting me with as many paintballs as possible, as closely as possible.
“What are you doing?” I shouted as she cornered me against the edge of a massive tractor wheel and repeatedly
