Chapter 22
Weeks passed, and they made no progress at all.
Deadshot could tell that Rider was growing impatient, but there was nothing to do but continue searching.
Eventually, they would find something. No matter how good a person was at hiding their tracks, there was always a way to find them, and Deadshot was going to make sure that he didn’t disappoint the kid.
They were both tired, and they had set up camp early for the night.
The sun was setting, but they still had an hour or two of light left, and Deadshot decided that it was time for the kid to start learning some new skills.
They had gone hunting about a week ago, and to say that the kid was hopeless with a rifle was a complete and utter understatement.
“It’s time,” Deadshot said as he got to his feet.
He had just had a nice hot cup of coffee, and so far it had been a good day.
Usually, by the time they set up camp, his body was aching, and his mind was spiraling with ways to try to figure out where Quincy was, but today, he had taken things easy, and although his knee was aching, it wasn’t as bad.
“Time for what?” the kid asked, standing up as well.
Deadshot drew his Colt Army. “For you to learn how to shoot.”
The kid’s eyes grew wide as excitement washed over his face. “I thought you had changed your mind about teaching me.”
Deadshot shook his head. “No, I was just preparing myself mentally for the task.”
The kid frowned, and Deadshot chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” the kid complained. “Not everybody is like you.”
“That might be true. I was always a natural,” Deadshot replied as he removed a couple of empty tins from his bag. He had been keeping them for this exact occasion. “But most things can be learned, and shooting is one of them.”
“Well, I’ve always been a fast learner,” the kid boasted.
Deadshot walked over to a couple of boulders and positioned the tins on top of them. “We’ll start off close to the targets,” he informed the kid. “Once you can hit them without missing, we’ll move further back.”
“Okay,” the kid agreed, drawing his pistol.
It was an old Colt Navy, but it was still in good condition. The kid’s father had taken care of it well. Now it was up to the kid to care for it.
“All right, stand over here, and hold your pistol like this.” Deadshot held out his pistol so that the kid could see how he was gripping it.
The kid took his position next to Deadshot and moved his hands so that they were placed on his own pistol in the same way. “Like this?”
Deadshot quickly examined the position of the kid’s fingers and then nodded. “Yes, but move your pinky finger a little down.”
The kid did as instructed.
“Good,” Deadshot praised. He’d never really tried to teach anybody anything before and figured that telling the kid that he was doing well when he was was a good way to go about it.
“Now, stand like this.” Deadshot positioned his feet correctly and bent his knees slightly.
“You always want to stand in a way that’ll help you balance. ”
The kid mimicked Deadshot again. Maybe he was right when he said he was a good student. He was doing everything Deadshot showed him without struggling.
“You want to keep your breathing even.” Deadshot took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “If you’re too shaky, you’re gonna miss the target.”
The kid took a deep breath, just like Deadshot had done, and focused his eyes on the empty tins as he exhaled.
“Hold the pistol out in front of you,” Deadshot instructed. “Line it up with the target.”
The kid did as told and lined up the pistol with the tin can. “Now what?”
“Now you take the shot.”
The first slug missed the tin. The second hit the boulder right beneath it, but the third one landed, sending the tin flying off. The kid got so excited that Deadshot couldn’t help but smile. “That was good,” he said encouragingly. “Try again.”
They spent the next half hour shooting the tins.
Deadshot showed the kid different ways to stand and even how to shoot from lying down.
The kid still had a long way to go, but within that short amount of time, he had significantly improved.
More surprising than the kid’s ability to learn was how much fun Deadshot was having teaching him.
He didn’t admit it out loud, but he couldn’t deny it to himself.
Maybe having the kid around wasn’t so bad after all.
When they were done with target practice, it was time for Deadshot to show the kid how to get out of the way when he was being attacked.
Of course, there was no way that it was actually going to shoot at the kid, so instead, he gathered a couple of small rocks and threw them at him.
Some might think this was a strange way to learn, but this was how he used to play with his nieces and nephews, and it helped him so much.
The kid’s reflexes weren’t bad, but he was definitely going to need some more practice.
Deadshot even showed him his favorite move.
It caused his left knee to ache furiously, and his thigh burned, but he was having so much fun that it was well worth it.
It was a slightly more elaborate move, where he ducked to the right, rolled over, and then shot the tin off the boulder.
The kid was thoroughly impressed, leaving Deadshot feeling exhilarated.
***
For a little while, Rider forgot about his troubles and simply had fun. He had known Deadshot for a while now and had never seen him smile or laugh so much. Maybe there was a lot more to the bounty hunter that he kept hidden.
Overall, it was one of the best days Rider had ever had, despite the circumstances, and to top it off, he had learned so much. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be as good a shot as Deadshot, but he was feeling optimistic.
Even if he couldn’t shoot like Deadshot, he would be able to protect himself and hopefully assist in getting his mother and sister back.
Deadshot kept telling him that the odds of his mother and sister still being alive were slim to none, but Rider chose to believe that they were still out there somewhere. He had to.
That night, he slept well.
For the first time in a long time, his dreams weren’t plagued by images of that night, and when he woke up in the morning, he felt refreshed and ready to get going. Deadshot actually laughed at his enthusiasm, and Rider hoped that the dynamic between them was shifting.
Deadshot had said it would take them another three to four days to get to the closest town, and Rider was absolutely fine with that. He was hoping that as they traveled, Deadshot would teach him more.
“You really need to give that animal a name,” Deadshot said as they trotted over open plains.
“You’re probably right,” Rider agreed. He had been thinking about it, too. He had had Quincy’s horse for a while now, and he had come to love the animal. There was no way that he was ever giving him back. It was his horse now, and he deserved a good name. “What do you think of Atlas?” he asked.
Deadshot looked the horse up and down. “It suits him.”
“Atlas it is then,” Rider stated, patting the big horse on his shoulder. “How old do you think he is?”
“Not sure,” Deadshot replied with a shrug. “But he’s still relatively young.”
Rider liked that. It meant that he would have the animal as a companion for years to come. “He’s a Mustang, right?”
Deadshot nodded. “Sure is, and a fine one at that.”
“You think Quincy tamed him?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, kid. I have no way of knowing if Quincy tamed him, but it really doesn’t matter. He belongs to you now.”
“How did you get Bullseye?” Rider asked, still trying to get Deadshot to tell him more about himself.
Deadshot shook his head. “You really never keep quiet, do you?”
“I think we both know the answer to that,” Rider replied with a laugh, hoping that Deadshot wouldn’t get angry.
Deadshot joined in on his laughter. “My ears are never gonna be the same.”
“Come on then, tell me about Bullseye,” Rider encouraged, and finally, Deadshot gave in and revealed something more personal about himself. It was only about his horse, but still, it was progress.