Rifle Range

Tom lay on his belly and sighted down the rifle barrel. He found the position uncomfortable. He wiggled, trying to find a more comfortable position on the sandy blue pad. On either side of him were other young men on blue mats, some adjusting themselves to the new experience, others at home on the range. Shots began to ring out as he found a position that didn't bother him too much. Targets at the end of the range bled bright green as shots found their marks. Tom grabbed the lever on the bolt and swung it up and back. He grabbed a bullet from the box beside him and slid it into the barrel. He slid the bolt forward and locked it into place. The butt of the gun he placed on his shoulder. Another shot rang out on his right. He ran through the steps he learned from the camp councilor only minutes before. Three large breaths in and out. He inhaled. Another shot on the right. He exhaled. While breathing, line the two nubs on the back of the gun with the one on the tip of the barrel. He inhaled. He exhaled. Three more shots rang in succession. Place the aligned dots on the target. He inhaled. The black target in front of him seemed to dance at the tip of the gun. Exhale halfway and hold your breath. The target's dancing became less erratic. He placed the sights on the middle and squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled.  The target bled green in the upper right. Tom lay there for a moment. He had fired a gun. The target before him held proof of this. He stared at it. He felt something. Tom grabbed the lever on the bolt and swung it up and back. The spent shell jumped out of the barrel and landed on the concrete beside his mat. Tom's eyes were on the target. He reached into the box and grabbed another bullet and slid it into place. His eyes continued to focus on the target. The bolt slid back almost on its own. He inhaled. The sights lined up in front of him. He exhaled. The target floated in front of the barrel. He inhaled. Unheard shots rang around him. He exhaled. The dancing of the target slowed as he took control of the barrel. He inhaled. He let it out slowly until the dancing almost stopped. He stared at the target, the sights moving slightly around the center. He waited for them to stop. He pulled the trigger. The target bled green. Tom grabbed the lever on the bolt and swung it up and back.