Rendering Flames

February 3rd

“Make yourself at home,” Richie told us, arms outstretched as he turned to face us in some form of a fake grand gesture.

The small cabin was abysmal to say the least. The floors had multiple holes in them, small plants sprouting through cracks in the walls, floors, and ceiling. Dry rot plagued the trimmings all around the house, splintered pieces of wood shifted under my feet as I walked around. The only compliment I had was that it wasn’t outside. We had spent the first few days sleeping outside with a constant cold rain either pouring or misting. I felt my hands with feeling for the first time since I’ve left Beth and Millie.

“You want the front or back?” Orson’s questions caught my attention.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m away from Richie.” He snored louder than a vehicle backfiring in the middle of the night. I couldn’t stand the noise.

“Heard that.” Orson smiled broadly and I couldn’t help but laugh at his amusing expression.
When I saw Richie had taken the back room, I set myself up in the front and tucked away in the least damaged looking spot. I spread out a tarp and then the blankets on top of it. I only had a thick blanket as a pillow and I felt that it would have to be replaced sooner than later with the amount of dirt and dusty contaminates it had gathered.

“You ever killed a man, Dahlia?” Richie’s sudden and personal question made me throw him an offended look.

“Excuse me?” I stood up fully, walking up to square myself up with him to seem confident.

“Have you ever ended another’s life?” His voice was less demanding this time and I knew that no matter how tough I made myself look, it all faded away when Orson looked curiously over to us.

I averted my gaze and turned my stance away, “yes.”

“Good, so you can be our sniper.” I hadn’t noticed the black duffle Richie had carried with him out here. “Have you ever shot from one of these, suckers?”

“No, and I don’t plan too. If you’re asking me kill someone for you Richie find someone else with balls you lack to do it. I didn’t exactly enjoy killing someone the first time around.”

He swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to move past my comment. “Not asking you too, Dahlia. I’m just telling you to be prepared to maybe do it again and by using this. You didn’t sign up for a nice camping trip through the woods. You signed up to catch the son’s a bitches that are disturbing the peace.”

“When did you kill someone?” I looked over to Orson, shaking my head. It was one of the hundreds of things he didn’t know about me or about Millie, about what we’ve done or been through.

“Another time, Orson. It’s a long story but it ends with me putting a bullet through some guy’s head.” I internally flinched at the memory, the feeling of fresh blood dripping from my hands and face.

“I’ll teach you how to aim it and shoot it. Even someone with your aiming disabilities can handle this and you aren’t intimidating enough to face these guys face to face.” He knelt down to unzip and lay it out, “and you’d just piss them off with your smart-ass comments.”
I huffed, going to sit back down on the blankets. I crossed my arms, stubbornly looked to Orson for a voice of reason. “Do you agree with him?”

“I don’t not agree with him?” He looked caught between a rock and a hard place, “only with the intimidation part. I’m not saying that you aren’t but these guys wouldn’t take a second look to you, Dahlia. Besides, you can say all that you want about Richie and he won’t be next to you to get a stick up his ass about it.”

I knew he was only trying to butter me up and also telling me I didn’t have a choice. Unwillingly, I got up once again and knelt down next to Richie. “Okay, show me what this thing can do.”
He laid the parts out from each other. “Here is your scope. You can adjust the magnification and angles there and there,” he said pointing at the front and then a place on the rear of it.

“Then this is the silencer that goes on the muzzle,” he screwed the cylindrical metal piece on and attached the scope on the top as well, tightening the screws that held it on.

“What part did you just attach the scope too?” I was genuinely nervous to be handling this thing, I wanted to learn the in’s and out’s. Richie looked a little surprised by my interested question.

“They’re just bolts and screws. It’ll hold the scope on real tight once you get it on there. Look into it real quick to make sure I don’t have to make any adjustments.” He handed me the rifle, clicking the safety on and off to double check. I bite my tongue at how it showed how little faith he had in me, although I couldn’t really blame him.

I looked down the scope, peering it out the window and into the woods. It was clear and I could see the bark on the tree in detail from what felt like a mile away. “It’s good. No way I wouldn’t be able to see something.”

“Good,” he said while he took it from me. “The components on this is basically similar to a handheld that you’ve shot before. Safety, trigger, mags go up into here, and your rear sight to aim with.”
I nodded as he ran through the basics, trying to retain it all. “Can I try it?”

“I don’t see why not,” he looked to Orson and he shrugged.

“Let’s go shoot some things.” Richie smiled and I surprised myself by grinning back but it disappeared when I realized that all of us were bonding and I didn’t like it. But I forced myself for the time being to enjoy it because it was a mystery if it would happen again.