Counting her load. Counting to shot. Counting her shots. Watching her body.
It comes right as Rachel's fingers are moving between the load and the trigger. The explosive sound of a steel from steel, the force of a bullet, shot right over Rachel's hand, right over the rifle. If it makes two inches above her hand, and less than seven from her face, it's a miracle.
But it never once touches her, and Jo never flinches the whole time.
no subject
At the fifth shot afterward.
Counting her load. Counting to shot.
Counting her shots. Watching her body.
It comes right as Rachel's fingers are moving between the load and the trigger. The explosive sound of a steel from steel, the force of a bullet, shot right over Rachel's hand, right over the rifle. If it makes two inches above her hand, and less than seven from her face, it's a miracle.
But it never once touches her, and Jo never flinches the whole time.