Liberi: Scene One
Houston, Texas
2023
The door chime to Jim’s Gun Range sounded, and without looking up from his phone, Ricky muttered, “Welcome in.”
A gruff female voice demanded, “Where’s Jim?”
He looked up. An attractive woman with fierce but pretty green eyes and wild dark hair stood before the counter, garbed in a white linen shirt, canvas breeches, and slouch boots. She had a musket strapped to her body and a flintlock pistol tucked in her belt, and she glared at him suspiciously.
Ricky knew immediately that he was looking at the infamous Pirate Lady. He’d heard plenty about her since he’d started working here a week ago. From the way the guys had described her, he’d imagined a hot but crazy chick who dressed in a Ren Fair corset and had a serious potty mouth. They’d gotten the hot part right and, by the looks of it, the crazy part too. But this woman was not messing around; she looked like a professional cosplayer—right down to the menacing look on her face.
“Uh, one sec, I’ll grab him.” Wide-eyed, Ricky stood and slipped around the corner to Jim’s office. “Hey Jim.” Ricky poked his head in, raising two furry eyebrows. “She’s here. Askin’ for you.”
Jim leaned back in his chair, his keyboard in his lap, eyes still on the computer screen before him. “Who?”
“The Pirate Lady.”
Jim plucked the toothpick from between his teeth and kicked his heavy boots off the desk. He set the keyboard back before the monitor and gave Ricky a lopsided smile. “I told you you’d know when you saw her.”
“Sure did.” Ricky rubbed his neck and lowered his voice. “Thought she’d be more… you know, sexy pirate. This gal’s gone full pirate.”
Chuckling as he rose from his chair and tugged at the waistband of his jeans, Jim said, “You’re in for a real treat, Ricky.”
Ricky shrugged. “I ain’t big on those black-powder weapons, boss.”
“You never seen her shoot. You ain’t seen nothing like it. But she’s not just good with flintlock muzzleloaders. She’s something else with a Calico, too.” Jim patted his employee on the shoulder and brushed past him for the door. He muttered over his shoulder, “Trust me. It’s worth it.”
Ricky followed his boss back out into the shop, stroking his beard.
“How you doin’, Sabrina?” Jim stepped in front of the counter and smiled widely at the brunette. “Here to do some shootin’?”
She eyed Ricky. There was a hard glint in her eyes, something Ricky was startled to see in a pretty woman who, under different circumstances, could have been a soccer mom living a comfortable life in the suburbs. “New guy?” she asked.
“Yeah, name’s Ricky.”
She scanned him from head to toe. “Who sent you?”
Ricky glanced at Jim in confusion, only to get a subtle shrug. “Sent me? No one sent me, lady. Got this job fair and square.”
She continued to look at him, long enough to make him squirm uncomfortably, then averted her piercing gaze to Jim. “So we gonna do this or what?” She dug into the worn leather satchel at her hip, pulled out a wad of cash, and slapped it down on the counter. “I haven’t got all day.”
“Sure thing, Sabrina, sure thing.” Jim grabbed a set of protective glasses from the rack behind him and placed them before her on the counter. She scowled. He held up a palm. “Now, we ain’t gonna do this every time, Sabrina. Rules are rules. I don’t want you losing an eye in there. You’ll be at Bench One.”
She snatched the glasses up and headed for the door to the range. “Fine. Let me out.”
Jim buzzed her out and gestured to Ricky. “Come and watch her. You won’t believe your eyes.”
Glancing uneasily at the entrance of the shop, Ricky followed his boss through the door to the range. They watched as Sabrina tied her long, mussed hair into a bun and unstrapped the musket from her body. She placed a stopwatch on the bench beside her and hit the start button.
With swift, expert fingers, she pulled the cock of the musket back to half-cock and slipped a paper cartridge from her satchel. Tearing the cartridge open with her teeth, she poured some of the black powder onto the pan and closed the cover, then poured the rest of the powder down the barrel, along with the ball. In a single motion, she thumbed the cock all the way back, aimed, and fired.
Sparks exploded. As smoke billowed in the air around her, Sabrina didn’t pause before reloading. Ricky blinked, rubbed his nostrils. By the time he’d recovered from the burning sulfur, Sabrina had already fired her second shot. He was wishing he’d worn protective goggles himself when he noticed Sabrina’s eyewear lying on the bench, discarded.
She’d never even put them on.
His eyes were still watering when Sabrina fired her third shot. Damn him to hell, when was that stopwatch going to beep? Hadn’t it been well over two minutes yet?
The men blinked in the hazy air as she continued to reload and fire. By the time the stopwatch went off, she’d fired ten shots.
“Wow!” Jim shouted, swaggering over to where Sabrina stood, staring at the target a hundred yards away. “Ten shots in two minutes. That’s pretty good.”
Without looking at him, she began walking toward the target, musket in hand. “Depends on how many shots hit the target,” she muttered.
The men followed her to the target, where Jim whistled. “Eight out of ten!”
When Sabrina frowned, Ricky laughed and said, “I don’t get it. Why you making it so hard on yourself? Get some smokeless black powder, take advantage of modern technology to make things easier. The deer ain’t gonna care one way or the other.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not hunting deer, Ricky.”
“What are you shootin’, then?” Ricky flashed Jim a grin. “Pirates?”
Sabrina gave Ricky a strange look, her bloodshot green eyes lingering on his face long enough for a frisson of discomfort to rush through him again. Then she shouldered her musket and answered, “You never know,” before making her way back to the bench.