Unleashed (15 page)

“Don’t know how,” Katelyn replied cheerfully.

Cordelia wrinkled her small, perfect nose. “You will.”

That afternoon, in the woods behind the cabin, Katelyn found out how serious Ed was about teaching her to shoot. He had set up a target on a tree fifty feet away and was standing next to her, expectantly holding out his wicked-looking rifle.

“It’s a gun,” she heard herself say. She wanted to be able to defend herself. Just not by shooting anything with bullets.

“It’s a gun,” he affirmed. “Which you will learn to shoot.”

“I don’t want to,” she said in a rush.

“It’s not about want. It’s about need. And you may not want to, but you absolutely need to.”

He balanced the rifle in both hands and positioned it so she could better see it. “This is a .22,” he explained. “It’s used mostly on squirrels, rabbits, and small game.”

She bit her lip at the thought of shooting a rabbit.

Chicken guts
, she thought anxiously.

“This isn’t the weapon you’ll be using to protect yourself from anything dangerous, but it’s the best rifle to start learning on. Now, you’re right-handed?”

Katelyn nodded.

“Good.”

He moved in close and stood next to her right shoulder, facing her. “Take your left hand and hold the stock under the barrel here,” he said, showing her where.

She hesitated. There had to be some other way to protect herself without having to touch a gun.

“Hold it,” he said.

“I don’t like guns. They freak me out,” she said heatedly.

“That’s ’cause you don’t understand how to handle ’em proper.”

No, it was because people used them to kill things. Like he did. He killed things with guns. She shuddered as he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around it.

“Now put your right hand just like this so your finger can touch the trigger,” he said, positioning her arms. “Keep the butt of the rifle against your shoulder. When you fire, it’s going to kick but it will just feel like someone shoving it back at you so long as you keep it in your shoulder. Now, sight down the barrel toward your target. See it?”

Reluctantly she bent her head and did as he said. “Yes.”

“When you pull the trigger, be gentle, squeezing, not jerking. Breathe in.”

She did as she was told.

“Notice how the barrel of the gun lifted when you did that?”

She nodded.

“Okay, breathe out. You see how the barrel tilts downward?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why when you actually fire, you want to be holding your breath, so that it’s steady. Let’s give it a try. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Hold it. Squeeze the trigger.”

She forced herself to do it, closing her eyes and gasping. The butt of the rifle slammed her hard in the shoulder, spinning her around as thunder roared. She dropped the gun, shrieking. Her grandfather caught it just before the muzzle dug into the ground.

“You moved. The rifle wasn’t in your shoulder. That’s why it bit you. Don’t close your eyes. You won’t hit anything that way. Don’t breathe. And don’t drop your rifle. If this barrel digs into the ground, you risk it getting plugged with dirt or debris. That happens and the next time it’s fired, it will explode, killing whoever’s holdin’ it.”

Her shoulder throbbed and she was more freaked out than she had been before she fired. His words echoed in her head and she could picture the rifle exploding in her hands, killing her before anyone or anything else got a chance to.

Guns don’t kill people
. People
kill people
. She’d heard her father say that.

Before he was killed by a person with a gun when she was twelve.

But if the rifle fell in the dirt, it could kill her.

So guns
do
kill people
.

By the time her grandfather helped her heft the rifle back to her shoulder, she was having a hard time breathing. As she sighted down the barrel, she began hyperventilating.

She fired and a branch fifty feet above her target fell with a snap. She fired again and it kicked dirt up halfway between her and the target. But she didn’t drop the weapon.

Finally her grandfather took the rifle away from her. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to make any more progress today,” he said, face inscrutable.

Relief flooded her. He was probably disappointed, but what had he expected?

Once they got into the house, she headed straight upstairs and took a shower. She let the hot water stream over her face and body and forced herself to let it all go, to stop clinging to how it had felt. Her shoulder was bruised and she winced as she touched it.

After she dressed, she headed back downstairs, refusing to look at the animal heads and their accusing eyes. Her grandfather was in the kitchen, making dinner.

“Do you have any ice packs?” she asked, sounding as miserable as she felt.

“Grab yourself a baggy and some ice from the freezer. It will do the trick.”

She grimaced. It meant dealing with melting ice leaking all over. She had to get something on her shoulder, though. She didn’t ask if he had any kind of painkillers. She’d never let herself be drugged again. If it hadn’t been for those, her mom would still be alive. She was exhausted, emotionally spent, and still freaked-out.

When dinner was ready, she dumped out her ice and gingerly picked up her fork.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” he said.

She didn’t want to get the hang of it, but she also didn’t want to fight about it. She just wanted to get through dinner so she could go to her room and be by herself.

“Next week I have to go pick up some supplies in Little Rock,” he told her. “To get ready for winter. I’ll be leaving next Friday morning and I won’t make it back until Saturday morning. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

She could hear the nervousness in his voice. Excitement flooded her until she realized she’d be completely isolated and alone with her nightmares and the strange noises, but she couldn’t let that stand in the way of a little freedom, the chance to prove to him she could be on her own. “I’ll be fine. I’ve spent the night alone before.”

It was a lie, but the last thing she wanted was for him to find a babysitter for her.

“If you wanted, you could have Cordelia over,” he suggested.

Katelyn’s spirits lifted at the possibility. It would keep her from being alone with her fears without jeopardizing the chance to show him she could take care of herself. She wondered why he didn’t just wait and go to Little Rock on the weekend and take her with him. She was about to bring it up but then realized she’d much rather take the opportunity he’d given her and spend the time with Cordelia instead of him.

“Thank you. I’ll ask her.”

She finished her meal, got herself another bag of ice, and headed upstairs.

To the creaking skylight.

6

“W
hat’s with you?” Trick asked when he showed up on the front porch in the morning. His long-sleeved black T-shirt was pushed up to his elbows, and his forearms were muscled and heavily veined, like an athlete’s. Trick was not some malnourished romantic poet. A solid guy stood before her, with great shoulders and a killer smile.

Katelyn winced at him as she moved the bag of ice cubes to a different part of her shoulder. “My grandfather tried to teach me how to shoot yesterday.”

“Looks like that went well,” Trick said, raising a dark eyebrow.

Katelyn walked back to the kitchen and dumped the melting ice cubes into the sink. She returned to the door, grabbed her backpack, which was beside it, and headed outside.

“Yeah, it was genius,” she said bitterly.

He took the pack from her. “Are you good to go to school?”

“According to Ed. I told him I was hurt and his response was to tell me to put more ice on it and try harder next time.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Trick said as they got in his car and pulled away.

She stretched the seat belt off her shoulder, imagining the repercussions if Trick had to slam on his brakes, which seemed likely, given the speed he was going.

“I don’t want to get the hang of it.”

“You know, living out here in the middle of nowhere, it
is
a good idea that you know how to defend yourself.”

“I got this book out of the school library. It says there’s some kind of monster in the woods. A priest wrote about it, but it was torn out of the book.”

He shrugged. “Kat, this is the Ozarks. There are
tons
of legends.”

“Like what?” she asked him, even though she’d finished the entire book about legends before he’d shown up. She wanted to see what he’d say.

“Take your pick. Haints, demon bears, we got ’em all.” He glanced at her again. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but the woods are dangerous because they’re dangerous.” Her gaze shifted to the leather bracelet he wore. “And now that those guys are out there at the old hot springs, spooking the wildlife …” He smiled grimly. “The old resort’s supposed to be haunted. Lord knows it
looks
haunted. It’s very ‘Victorian insane asylum,’ lots of narrow brick corridors and stuff. You guys could do a project on that.”

“I think we’re doing a lost silver mine,” she told him. “At least, I hope.”

He waggled his brows. “I’ll help you cart out the silver.”

“How thoughtful,” she said sarcastically.

“I’m your man. And not like your BFF, but your
man
man. ’Cuz, you know, I’m not guy friend material. I’m on a horse.”

She laughed. It was weird how someone she’d just met could make her feel so at ease. Especially someone so hot.

“So in that capacity I’ve got a question for you,” he said, voice more serious.

“The capacity of …?”

“Me being a man.”

“What?” she asked, heart skipping a beat.

“There’s a party two weeks from tomorrow. Friday the seventeenth. I was thinking we could go together.”

“You mean like a date?” she asked, feeling a grin spreading across her face.

“Well, if you put it that way … exactly,” he said, his voice suddenly intense.

“In that case … yes,” she said, a thrill running through her. She felt giddy and a bit light-headed. She thought of the couple of guys she’d liked back in Santa Monica who had never asked her out. There had been plenty of flirting, but never anything else.

“Houston, we are go for launch,” he said, and then floored it.

“Just don’t kill me first,” she said, laughing.

“I won’t. Or after. I promise.” His grin grew. “But this
is
going to be killer.”

When she got to history, Cordelia smiled brightly at her, and as soon as Katelyn sat down, she said, “I changed my mind, Kat. I’m on board with the Madre Vena.”

“Oh? Well, great,” Katelyn replied. Cordelia’s eagerness seemed forced. Katelyn figured it was another instance of Cordelia’s trying not to rock the boat, and while she’d rather just move on and get to work, she didn’t want to cause problems with her first and thus far only friend in Wolf Springs—not counting Trick, as he didn’t want her to think of him like that. The thought made her cheeks go warm as she studied Cordelia’s face. “But are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.” Cordelia nodded. “My dad said he remembers there was talk that it had been found back when he was younger. But it turned out not to be true.”

“Oh, that’s so cool.” So Cordelia had discussed it with her dad. Maybe knowing there was a family connection was what had changed her mind. “Maybe we can interview him.”

Cordelia’s face fell. Then, just as abruptly, she smiled her fake smile again. “Yeah, maybe,” she said. Katelyn took note of her hesitation. Maybe her dad was as weird as her sisters. If that was the case, Katelyn felt sorry for her.

The rest of the week and most of the next passed in a blur. Cordelia agreed to spend the night Friday. Trick kept flirting with her, and she flirted back. She legally checked out her book from Mrs. Walker, who informed her that the other book about Wolf Springs history was missing or mis-shelved. That, combined with the missing page, piqued Katelyn’s curiosity and she started to search for it for a few minutes each day before first period. As she combed the shelves, she dusted and organized the books, bit by bit putting the library back in order.