Get used to raising the gun and shooting. If a lowlife draws, you think you’ll have time to stop and aim? Find the sights?” Pegasus faced the hill, sweat rolling down her neck and between her shoulder blades. It was almost six o’clock and she was irritated, hungry, and her hands were developing blisters from the awkward way she was forced to hold a pistol built for a man. Her fingers weren’t strong enough to pull the carbine back and flip the locking mechanism in place in the smooth motion Kenny had demonstrated a dozen times. She could get it, but she had to hold the gun lopsided, the barrel facing up and out. If speed were an issue, she would be dead before she ever advanced a bullet into the chamber. “You know how to load and unload the bullets. You’ll never get speed with either of these guns, but they’re the best I’ve got for you. Turn around so I can mix them up again,” he said. Pegasus turned her back to the tailgate of Kenny’s pickup and faced the hill as he mixed two calibers of bullets and set out both magazines and pistols.
