Scarlet, but she finds me first.

“There you are,” Scarlet says. “Are you hiding from everyone?”

“I was going to look for you, actually.”

She smiles. “No shit? What did you have in mind?”

Scarlet has jeans on again. She has her black shirt tucked and her pistol belt loaded. Pistol, extra magazines, and bells and whistles for a gunfight. “You always walk around a house like that?”

“Like what?” Scarlet glances down. “Strapped to clap? I mean, yeah…”

Scarlet now regards you, noticing your lack of a firearm. “You want to go shooting?”

“If that’s what you want to do, I used to go to a spot nearby.”

“Good enough for two, right?” Scarlet asks, adjusting her pistol belt.

You lead Scarlet downstairs and into your room. You claimed the room beside Kenji’s because you had a feeling Amara was going to keep everyone segregated like this anyway. From there, find your pistol.

Scarlet asks a few questions, mostly about your pistol from the early 1900s. Scarlet flashes her own pistol and suggests you get something newer. Her pistol is similar to Alexandra’s but looks more worn down. The bluing has faded, and the grip is chipped.

“Amara just dish out those 1911s to everyone? I have one too, but I just… never use it, I guess.” You reply.

Scarlet snorts. “I’ve had this forever, mind you. 45 is a popular caliber in these parts, and it packs a vicious punch.” She racks the slide, handles the bullet in the chamber, and sets it on the table, comparing the differences of your 32.ACP to her 45.ACP.

You both look at the bullets, and she crosses her arms after holstering her sidearm. “I have different guns, alright? I have a Mexican MPL somewhere around here.”

Genuine interest sparks behind Scarlet’s eyes. “As someone who gets up close and personal, that’s super hot that you have one of those. How’d you get your fingers around that?”

“Off of a contract I took a few years back, I haven’t had a chance to flaunt it off,” you dig around the table and eventually fish out one of your older pistols. A government contract 1911 from a uniform out of Oklahoma. “There, how’s that? I got one too.”

Scarlet has a small smile. “No, bring your Jager. It’s cute.”

After grabbing your coats and telling Flora that you are leaving, you head out. Overcast weather greets you. Even with all the cloud cover, you knew it would be dark by getting back to the house. It takes more than 30 minutes to get to your old spot. Finally, just outside the village, you reach an opening with spent brass casing on the ground and targets punched with holes. You lay down a can of ammo and breath into your hands.

Scarlet looks around with her hands on her hips. “We’ll start at, uh…3 yards? 9 feet. And we’ll increase the distance from there.”

You get close to one of the dummies. It’s the least damaged out of the others. You place down the ammo can and adjust your belt. “So, what's the plan here? Head? Chest-”

“You want me to give you head?” Scarlet cuts in.

“What?”

“The plan wasn’t sex,” Scarlet rolls her eyes.

“...What?”

“Let’s wager,” Scarlet says. “Headshots. Whoever is the first to miss the head has to stimulate the winner orally.”

You got a strange case of Deja Vu but shook your head. “I…yeah, we can do that.”

“I use knives mostly, but don’t let that get to your head…” Scarlet upholsters her pistol and squares up with the dummy. She inhales deeply and then exhales. You warn her about hearing protection, but she lets the hammer drop. A bullet spits out of her handgun and runs through the head of the dummy. It’s clean between the hand-drawn eyes. Your ears are ringing, and you both have uncomfortable faces. “One bullet isn’t going to make us deaf.”

You unclasp your headset and place the muffs on your temples. “Nonetheless.”

Scarlet proves to be a fair opponent. She’s quick and has a good set of eyes that keeps her shots landing where she wants them. You do the same but find yourself straining to keep up. She mentioned preferring close quarters but didn’t expect her to be so good with a gun.

Your barrels are hot, and you’ve done several moving shots. Your partner is impressive, but then again, so are you. There’s nearly nothing left of the head now, making every follow-up harder than the last, especially now that it’s getting dark.

Scarlet switches magazines and sighs. “This took longer than I was expecting. I thought you were a rifle guy, but I am, sweating and worrying on my last mag.”

You change magazines too. “I thought you were a knife girl. We both underestimated each other. Uh, last magazines too, by the way.”

“Tell you what,” Scarlet steps back, the muzzle of her pistol downrange. “Let’s just see if we- uhm, you can hit the target all the way back here in the chest with all 7 of your rounds.”

“What about you?” You follow her and face the target; you’re about 15 yards away from it. It’s hard to spot it from here, and your sights are…well, they’re garbage in this lighting. “Are you going to make any hits?”

“One of us must be ready for a fight when we’re walking back. No offense, but I’m not going to depend on your 32.ACP to protect us.”

You aim and squint. It’s almost impossible to see what you’re hitting. Scarlet places a hand on your shoulder and leans in to whisper.

“Remember what's on the line,” she coos at you. “I might not be able to keep my end of the bargain immediately, but I’ll find you later tonight to keep my word…~.”