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I take my wife and sister out for her birthday.

After a minute or so Maria lit a cigarette and tossed one to Warren, leaning across the table to light it for him. Warren took a drag, gave a little cough, exhaled. Maria leaned back in her chair, tipped her chin up in Draga's direction.

"Draga. That's-"

"Romanian." Draga finished for her.

Maria nodded.

Draga smiled and tipped the mouth of her beer bottle in Maria's direction. "I noticed the Romani Chakra on your chest. Are you part Romani?" she sounded doubtful.

"No. Not really. Not by blood."

"More by practice." Warren put in helpfully. "And name. Her last name, Gitano, is basically Spanish for Romani."

"Huh. Romani la inima, apoi." Draga said to herself. "Romani at heart," she translated quickly.

Maria arched an eyebrow, but smiled. "Maybe you teach me some of that sometime."

Draga nodded.

"Shall we teach the wagon girl to shoot before dinner?" Warren asked.

Leer gave Draga a smile she wasn't sure she liked.

"Got those earplugs handy?"

Leer and Warren had done a quick sweep of the property with assault rifles at the ready. Leer carried a kalashnikov with a second magazine, upside down, taped to the first. Warren opted for his old, straight magazine Thompson. As expected, there were no wandering dead this far out in the woods. Not yet, anyway.

The women had waited on the back deck during the perimeter check. Maria lounged on an old, faded loveseat. She had strapped on her old fashioned leather gunbelt with its line of bullets in little leather loops. One hand held her beer and a lit cigarette. The other was continuously cocking and decocking the hammer of her heavy black Ruger .357 revolver. Draga eyed the gun warily from where she leaned on the rail.

When the men had met back on the deck, Warren told the others to carry on without him. After warning Draga not to hold any scopes against her face, he went around to stand watch in the front yard. Just in case.

Right away Draga recognized in Leer mannerisms her father had sometimes exhibited. A sort of curt, but professional demeanor. He had taken a scarecrow from his garden (Draga spared a moment from her nervousness to spend being vaguely surprised that people actually used scarecrows) and sunk it out in the middle of the backyard about thirty feet from the deck. Next he unceremoniously bid Maria 'move', that he might spread an array of firearms across the loveseat. He considered a moment, then picked up an HK MP5, checking the open breach as he walked over to where Draga stood.

He looked at her and tapped his left ear with his hand. Draga nodded and began to speak, "Yeah, I put them in-"

Leers expression didn't change, but he reached up and before she could properly react, was handing her the earplug from her right ear.

"Pay attention."

Draga's brow furrowed in annoyance, but she payed attention. Leer went over the basic functioning of the weapon and the names of each part. He handed the HK over and gave her a moment to get a feel for the weight and shape of it before continuing the instruction. He moved around her, adjusting her stance, pulling the butt back into her shoulder tighter, reminding her how to sight the target. When he was more or less satisfied, he took the earplug from her pocket where she had put it and stuck it in back in her ear. He stood just behind her.

"Switch the selector one click to single fire." he enunciated loud enough to be sure she would hear.

A pause. Click.

"Steady your breathing. Aim for the chest. Fire one shot at will."

Draga sighted the scarecrows chest. Breath, she thought. Slow down.

The distinctive blast of the 9mm echoed from the woods surrounding the yard.

The bullet kicked up dirt and grass behind the target. Flinching slightly, Draga couldn't be sure if she hit the dummy or not.

"You tensed. Anticipating the shot. You missed just to the right of his face, which means you were aiming at his chest, but you pulled high when you tensed up. Best cure is practice." Leers voice from behind her.

Draga nodded slightly without turning.

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