MF1.0 - 72 - Learn to Shoot

The alarm went off and Stef had to stop herself from beating it to death. Five hours after midnight. She wasn’t used to approaching this time of day from this side - yet another new experience to add to her long list she had accumulated in the last few days. She required away the doona so she couldn’t hide under it and stared at the roof. Enid was right - the room would look better with a few posters - but there was plenty of time for that. No need to rush these things. After slowly counting to ten in ASCII-encoded binary - her favourite kind of binary - she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood. Her legs weren’t quite awake, so she stumbled, rather than walked to the bathroom. She stripped off her pyjamas and stepped into the shower. The water was warm right away - a perks of living in an M-word building - you didn’t have to rely on regular plumbing. Under the warm water, the dressing came away from the wound. It wasn’t as grostesque as she had feared - there was nothing left but a big bruise and a new scar. She wondered if she should name it - some of the others had names, at least they had when she’d been younger, time and apathy had made her forget all but a few. ‘You got shot,’ she mumbled, and shook her head under the water. ‘You really got shot.’ Try to avoid that in the future. She turned the water off, stepped out and grabbed one of the towels. The unexpectedly fluffy towels. The kind she had usually avoided. They felt good. She replaced the towel and looked into the fog-free mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair and required herself into her uniform. Five a.m. was not a time of day she wanted to be awake. It was one of those evil hours. The kind that only regular people with regular jobs, commutes and mortgages knew about. After three cups of coffee and a handful of chocolate-covered coffee beans, she felt crazy enough, and brave enough to leave the room. Jazzed on coffee with a gun and a licence to kill…this day is going to end well. Shut up already, this is going to be a great day. A few of the recruits were in the mess hall as she went past, groggily staring into bowls of cereal. She wasn’t interested in them, today was…this morning was all about proving herself. There was no one in the gym yet - but the lights flickered on as she stepped over the threshold. She walked over to the shooting range and required a gun. A paper target appeared and she squeezed off the first round, it went wild and slammed into the back of the range. ‘I told you that you were excused from training this morning.’ Ryan. She squeezed off another round - this one actually hit the target. ‘And I suppose the mirror is going to play hooky as well.’ ‘You’re injured.’ ‘You’re just feeling guilty.’ She tried for a headshot and failed miserably. He looked past her at the target and shook his head. ‘I guess you do need the practice.’ She poked out her tongue. ‘Gee, sorry I’m not some sort of shooting savant. I’m a godsdamn hacker, what did you expect?’ He stared at the paper target. ‘A little more hand/eye coordination?’ She pouted. ‘But I have that terrible motor function disorder.’ ‘Shoot again.’ She lifted her arm, and he grabbed it and straightened it. ‘Don’t be afraid of it. Guns are tools, not something to be feared.’ The shot missed the paper target and joined its brother in the back wall of the shooting range. ‘Some great teacher you are…’ she muttered. ‘Were you aiming?’ ‘No.’ ‘Aiming is also important.’