Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 22

How many parts to a VP9? 53. 53 fucking parts. When Eli had all the parts laid out on the table and said we were going to put it back together, I thought I was going to cry. Surely we didn't need to fully dissemble the damned thing just to clean it, but he insisted it was important I learn each part and its purpose – spoken like a true computer geek.

Now Eli told me each part's name, but I couldn't tell you which spring was which. He had me download an exploded diagram of the gun and all its parts to keep on my phone as reference, but it didn't exactly tell me how it all goes together so it was kind of useless. I just hoped he wasn't going to quiz me on it.

Then after he finished cleaning, I watched him put it together again. The way he knew exactly where all the parts went without hesitation was daunting. He really expected me to be able to do the same. I had many hours of practice ahead of me, but I doubted I could ever get up to his speed. Even with the extended time taken to show me how to fully dissemble each gun and then clean it, he still managed to have both mine and his resembled within 90 minutes, just in time for us to leave.

The Bullseye Indoor Shooting Range was only a short drive away in amongst another industrial park. The parking lot itself was poorly lit, however the sign above the door was bright enough to illuminate the area. It also cast sharp, intimidating shadows around the edges of the lot. Eli parked in the middle of the lot, away from the shadows, but I still couldn't get the fear out of my head that something evil lurked in the darkness. Christ, this was what I hated the most – the constant terror that death stalked me. It was a fear, arguably somewhat irrational fear, that I had managed to get under control, but it seemed Gabe's death undid all that.

I forced myself out of Eli's Honda before my anxiety ate me alive. I shifted the uncomfortable lump of steel in my pants. It wasn't loaded, but that didn't make me feel any more confident with the damned thing. A rustle near the dumpsters along the side of the building caused me to stop dead in my tracks. My pulse pounded in my ears while I watched with baited breath for something to come out of the shadows. My better judgment told me it was just a rat, but that didn't mean the rest of me listened.

"It's just a rat," Eli broke the silence. My eyes flicked back to him. He was standing directly in front of the steel double-door entrance of the Bullseye. If it weren't for the tiniest reflections on his eyes, his face would have been completely lost in the shadows of his hood and face mask. I wondered if I had looked the same as him with my hoodie and face mask.

"I know," I grunted and swiftly walked up to him.

As soon as I was beside him, Eli reached for my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. He gave my hand a quick squeeze before lifting his free hand to knock on the door. He knocked three times, paused, knocked five times, paused, then knocked twice.

Silence.

It was then I realized the doors had no handle or knob. It had to be opened from the inside. However, no one was coming to the door. I started to think we had wasted our time coming out to this desolate lot in the middle of the night. Clearly Dante had already gone home, either because he had simply forgotten or he was playing a prank on Eli. I glanced at Eli, waiting for him to come to the same conclusion, but he remained steadfast in his belief that the door would simply open because of his super secret and super special knock. How to break it to him gently?

Then when I least expected it, the door cracked open.

"Took you long enough," Eli hissed.

"Can't talk. Got my nan on the phone. You know where everything is," a shadowy figure on the other side of the door spoke, then stepped away from the door. Through the crack of the door I could hear him trying to explain to his nanna how to get the show she missed through the on-demand menus. I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing.