“You mean like a gun?” Gracie asked, turning her wet face toward him. The rolled-up bandana she’d tied around her head was soaked with sweat. “I fired a rifle. Daniel—” her voice caught. “—taught me how to shoot.”
“What model?” He was certain the catch in her voice came from grief, rather than exertion. He ignored it.
“An MK22.”
“The model?”
“O.”
The MK22 model O was just one of the rifles offered to the warriors of Shadow Mountain. It was Samuel’s weapon of choice. Which could be why Daniel had gravitated to it. However, there were many types of rifles at Shadow Mountain. A warrior should be proficient with all of them.
“Did you fire a handgun?”
Gracie shook her head.
“We’ll spend the rest of the day on the shooting range. You need to be proficient with various weapons—rifles, handguns, knives...”
“Knives?” she asked. For the first time, trepidation trembled in her voice.
He stopped long enough to hold her hazel eyes. A shimmer of nervousness touched her face. “Knives are an essential part of training.” For battle training mostly, although self-defense was a battle of sorts. “If your target is too close for guns, a knife is a necessity. You cannot afford to be weaponless.”
She offered a sad smile. “Daniel said his hands and feet were his best weapons.”
O’Neill seized on that tidbit concerning his dead son. It read of the bravado typical of young warriors. Even though it was a foolish sentiment.
“Hands and boots are weapons.” He didn’t return her smile. “But only as a last resort. “Rifles first, then handguns, followed by knives. Only after knives are lost, do you employ hands and boots.” He glanced at her. The corners of her eyes were crinkled, but her gaze remained steadfast. “The strategy in battle is to attack from a distance. Keep space between you and your opponent. Give yourself room to maneuver.”
She offered a small nod, as though committing the advice to memory. “Am I allowed into the weapons room and shooting range?” She hesitated and rushed the rest out. “I try to work outwhen no one is around, but I don’t think the warriors like me using their training equipment.”
O’Neill scowled, a surge of protectiveness catching him off guard. “Have any of them spoken to you about this?”
“No.” She recoiled from the harshness in his voice, then stumbled to catch up with his longer stride. I just sensed their annoyance, that’s all.”
His scowl slowly fading, O’Neill stopped and faced her. In retrospect, the reaction she sensed from the base warriors should not have brought surprise. The warrior clan was very much a patriarchal society.
This would not be an easy shift to navigate…for any of them...if she were accepted onto the warrior path.
“Wolf has given permission for your training. This includes all activities and equipment on base.” He paused to catch her eyes. “This does not mean you are slated to become a base warrior. We need guidance from the Shadow Warrior on that matter.
With that said, he led her out of the obstacle course and across the road. Another door was recessed into wall directly across from the entrance to the obstacle course. He pressed his thumb to the scanner.
“This is the weapons locker,” he told her as the security panel beeped and turned green. The lock on the door deactivated with a loud click. He twisted the handle and pushed the door open, which activated the overhead lights. They came on, bank by bank, with a series of loudtwangs.
She followed him into the room, only to stop dead as racks upon racks of weapons came into view—submachine guns, RPGs, rifles, handguns, knives—the room was a smorgasbord of every type of weapon imaginable. There were even racks of fiberglass bows and quivers of arrows.
“Holy…” Gracie’s awed voice trailed off. “Do I get to use all of these? I mean, like, can I try them all out?”
“Eventually.” O’Neill’s lips twitched.
Her face was lit with eagerness. Was this interest in weapons a new thing? One that manifested with herHo'ceeclaiming? He thought not. Daniel, after all, had taken her shooting before theHo'ceehad claimed her.
He walked along the racks of rifles, until he reached the MK22 models. He removed the model Daniel had taught her on and grabbed a couple of magazines. Then crossed over to the racks of handguns and removed a Glock 19, along with a thirty-round magazine. Gracie’s hands were on the small side, which made the G19 the best fit.
“We’ll start with these.”
He’d evaluate her proficiency with these weapons to start. Then they’d explore other options. Every warrior had a favorite weapon. Daniel might have chosen the MK22, but that didn’t mean Gracie would.
The range was empty when they walked in. No surprise. Most warriors hit the range after the endless training and strategy meetings had concluded for the day. And when they finally arrived, they did so en masse. Target practice had become a competitive sport among Wolf’s warriors, complete with jeering and boasting and obnoxious one-upmanship. Hell, even the squids had fallen into the competition trap—although their rivalry was among themselves. There was a clear delineation between the warriors of Shadow Mountain, and the squids, and then him.
