Crooked Hearts

Episode 20

ALICE

I lie prone on the vibrant green grass; a vast field stretches out before me as colorful wildflowers sway in the breeze. Further behind, the scattered trees frame the high walls of the Upper City. I inhale deeply as I steady my aim. With practiced ease, I line up the sight with the end of her barrel, my finger resting gently on the trigger as my eyes focus ahead. It has been quite some time since I last practiced.

The target rises fifty meters in front of me, standing out from the scattered trees around it. My finger pulls the trigger, and the rifle kicks back. Faint smoke follows a hushed blast of explosion, and the target topples over. Pushing my hands to the ground, I rise to one knee and reach for the lever of my rifle. Pushing it forward with a satisfying click of the breech opening, the metallic scent of burnt black powder fills my nose. A smell that I have missed.

I load a paper cartridge of black powder into the chamber before pulling back the lever. The metal block shears the backend of the paper cartridge on its way up, and excess black powder shoots upwards, staining the exterior of the breech. I let out a sharp exhale through my lips, blowing away the traces of black powder, dispersing it from the breech and into the air.

I turn to my left to see him still reloading. That is my advantage; his slow reloads will be the reason for his loss. Another target rises a hundred meters away; I adjust my aim and shoot it down immediately. The target rises four more times, each fifty meters further away from the last, and I shoot them all down. I jump to my feet as the final target falls to reload easier, glancing at him to see that he is reloading for his final shot.

I sprint across the field as a shot roars, the wind whipping past my face. Legs straining, heart beating fast, breaths suffocating. My steps weighed down by fatigue. I inhale sharply, trying to regain my breathing as my pace slows down. And I sneak a glance behind me; I am a good three hundred meters ahead of him as he finishes his reload. And I relax for a moment with a smile.

My brows furrow, and I turn to look behind me; he is fast approaching. I inhale sharply. My feet pounding against the field harder and faster in a sprint, but he cuts me off. My jaw tightens as he reaches the shooting position first. Victory is assured with my aim and skill with the rifle, but now it is slipping thanks to my lack of fitness. I arrive at the shooting position a few seconds late, breaths coming in short gasps, lungs burning with each inhalation.

I take a sharp deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs, and I exhale slowly to steady myself. Arms trembling with exertion as I hold my rifle up to aim, my heartbeat thudding in my chest, drowning out all other sounds. With my finger resting gently on the trigger, I line up the sight with the end of her barrel; eyes narrowing in focus, the colors and shapes sharpen, and my jaw tightens as I pull the trigger.

My body jolts from the rifle's kickback, and I almost lose hold of my own rifle, but the target falls with a satisfying thud, and a smile escapes me. It is a close call, but I have beaten him to the punch. I inhale deeply, taking in the intoxicating smell of black powder and victory with closed eyes. I never thought winning an insignificant competition could feel so satisfying.

I let out a long and slow exhale, trying to still my trembling hands and racing heart. "You actually beat me." I sling my rifle over the shoulder before running my fingers through my hair to fix it, composing myself as he approaches. "Congratulations." His voice is warm and supportive.

I turn to face him, tilting my chin up slightly to meet his bright blue eyes that are full of fondness. "Thank you, would you like a rematch?" I fight back the smile breaking out of me, and he chuckles at my playful challenge, placing his hands behind his back as he looks at the final target.