Billys Rod & Rifle Store was a weathered relic, its timeworn facade revealing years of neglect. The weathered wooden planks of its exterior seemed to sag under the weight of time, a flickering neon sign above the entrance struggled to announce its wares with several missing letters; it had been that way for years.   The dimly lit shop was filled with dusty glass display cases, their contents an eclectic mix of antique firearms, ammunition, and worn leather holsters. The musty scent of aged gunpowder hung in the air, a testament to the shop's enduring presence.

Billy Schmidt was pushing seventy years old, he had stood behind the counter of his gun store for most of his life, his weathered face bore the marks of years spent around firearms, a testament to his unwavering commitment to the trade. The shop smelled of gun oil and leather, an atmosphere that was as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He watched as customers came and went, most of them regulars, who sought out various firearms for hunting or self-defence.

On this particular day, a woman with a beauty far above average entered his store.  She exuded an air of confidence and strength, a stark contrast to the typical clientele the man had grown accustomed to. Dressed in a manner that seemed more suited for a gym than a gun store, she didn't fit the mould of a typical gun enthusiast. She was wearing black yoga pants and white running shoes. She had her hair up in a tight bun and was wearing a black baseball cap. She was wearing a light zip-up hoodie that left her midsection exposed, her pierced bellybutton sporting a small sparkling diamond, Her presence was magnetic, and he couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to this unlikely place.

Julie approached the counter, and there was a moment of silent acknowledgment as if each was trying to decipher the other's story. It was a curious pairing, a man steeped in the world of firearms and a woman who defied stereotypes, but sometimes, life's most intriguing connections happened in the most unexpected of places.  Billy was immediately attracted to Julie, her eyes mesmerized him.   

“Ah, if only I were forty years younger,” he thought to himself.

Julie looked down at the dusty display case, her eyes fixed on the formidable array of firearms within.  She examined each firearm with a careful eye, studying the intricate details and considering their weight and design. The muted light caught the contours of her face, revealing a sense of determination as she contemplated her choices, a stark contrast to the hardened arsenal before her. There, in that moment, she embodied the complex intersection of self-protection and empowerment, a testament to the profound decisions one must make in a world where choices often carry heavy consequences.

“I need a gun,” Julie said.

“Well, you are in a gun shop love. Tell me, what do you need a gun for? Hunting, or….”

“Self-defence,” she said in a manner that suggested she wasn’t messing around.

“Oh, I see. Whelp, you can never be too safe out there on those streets.  Have you ever fired a gun before?” Billy asked.

“I have.”

Billy was a seasoned and knowledgeable gun enthusiast, he began describing some options available. He picked up a sleek black semi-automatic pistol, a Walther PPK and explained its compact design, ideal for concealed carry. His tone was calm and authoritative as he highlighted the PPK's 7-round magazine and its reputation for reliability.

“Now this right here is what Hitler used to kill himself! Contrary to popular opinion, he didn’t use a Luger!  Nope, no sir.  Hitler offed himself with one of these bad boys right here!”

Julie showed no sign of interest in the PPK.

Next, Billy reached for a classic 1911 Colt Government, its steel frame and walnut grips showcasing timeless craftsmanship. He spoke with admiration for the .45 ACP cartridge and how it had earned a place in American history. His words were a testament to his passion, as he described the 1911’s single-stack magazine and legendary accuracy.

“Now here’s the things with guns, sweetheart. These semiautomatics are all great and dandy, but you never know when they’re gonna jam on ya. You see, this is why I prefer a good old-fashioned revolver. Sure it can only blast six bullets, but it’s old reliable.  Ya know?  You never have to worry about it. It’s never gonna let you down.  Doesn’t leave any of those pesky shell casings lying around either, because you know that can get you in trouble.”

Julie wasn’t listening very closely to Billy. Her eyes had locked on to a slick black gun that looked deadly. It looked big and powerful, the black steel radiating strength and power.

“Tell me about that one, right there,” she said, pointing at one particular gun in the display case.

Billy admired Julie’s taste in firearms.  He reached into the display case and pulled out the slick firearm that Julie had set her eyes on.

“Now, that there, that’s a Glock 18!  This bad boy right here holds 33 bullets in the mag!  I wouldn’t want to mess with a woman brandishing one of these bad boys!” Billy said.

Billy handed the gun over the counter to Julie and she held it in her hand observing it. Billy was watching closely trying to figure Julie out, he still couldn’t understand what such a beautiful young woman was doing buying a gun.

“Ya know, we have a shooting range in the back here, if you want to test that bad boy out.  For a beauty like you, I’m gonna throw in a box of bullets!”

The last time she had used a gun, Julie had shot two men dead. The thought of shooting paper targets was much more appealing.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

At the back of the store was a large steel door, as soon as they passed through it, the relentless popping of gunshots could be heard.  The medium-sized shooting range was bustling with activity as several individuals meticulously honed their shooting skills. The sharp crack of gunfire resonated in the air, mingling with the distinct scent of gunpowder; it was a smell Julie immediately connected with. Rows of paper targets stood at varying distances, each awaiting the precise aim of the marksmen or in this case a markswoman.

They made their way down to an empty stall, and once there, Billy loaded the gun with ammunition and handed Julie a pair of earmuffs.

“You’ll need these love, it’s a little hard on the ears in here.”

Julie took off her baseball hat and released her hair letting it tumble down to the small of her back.  Billy caught the invigorating scent of Julie's beautiful head of thick, freshly washed hair.  It brought him back to the days when he was still young enough to attract the attention of a girl like Julie Koop.

Next, Billy handed Julie the Glock 18 with a fully loaded magazine and showed her how to cock it and release the safety.

“OK, you’re ready to go,” he said pointing to the paper target fifty feet away.

Julie stood with unwavering composure, her fingers gripping the cold steel of the Glock 33.  It was only her second time handling a firearm, but from the moment she squeezed the trigger, something extraordinary became evident. After a brief pause to set her aim, she squeezed the trigger six times in rapid succession, and after another brief pause, fired another four bullets into the target ahead of her.  Her shots cut through the air with remarkable precision, every bullet finding its mark dead center on the target. Each round fired was a testament to her natural gift for accuracy and control, leaving Billy astounded by her God-given talent.

It was evident in the way she maintained her poise and fired shot after shot with astounding accuracy she was a natural at handling a gun and had an amazing aim.  Billy had witnessed countless individuals attempt to master marksmanship, but rarely had he seen someone who could pick up a gun for the first time and deliver such precision.  When Billy brought the paper target closer for inspection, every round fired by Julie had struck the target with an uncanny accuracy.

“Jesus,” was all Billy could say, as he studied the target with a look of complete dismay.

Julie took the earmuffs off and placed the gun down. Billy was lost for words.

“You know, over the years I’ve seen a lot of newbies come in here, I’ve never seen anything like what you just did.  Never.  Your aim is impeccable, some of those bullets almost went through the same hole for fucks sake!” he said, looking shocked.

Billy could see that Julie‘s mind had wandered, and his curiosity about exactly who this strange and beautiful woman was grew.  Julie wasn’t your typical voluptuous beauty, she radiated strength and confidence as well, there was a sweetness there, but you also knew that she wasn’t the kind of woman you’d probably want to mess with. It was something most people could sense in her presence, and Billy certainly did as well.

“I hope you’re not planning on shooting something other than these paper targets are you love?” Billy asked cautiously.

“I hope not… but I don’t know.”

“Well love, I’ll say this. You’ve got yourself one hell of a sidearm there, and I’ll say this as well, I would not wanna mess around with you!”

She was suddenly aware that things could have played out much differently behind the Walmart Supercenter just three days earlier.  What if the bigger of the two men had come around the corner first? There’s no way she would’ve been able to physically overpower a man that big.  Or what if the gun she had wrestled off her assailant hadn’t been cocked with the safety already off? Julie knew how lucky she had been to walk away alive from the first attempt on her life, moving forward she would need a lot more than luck, and she knew it.

“I’ll take it,” she said.

As she stepped out of the gun shop, a sense of unease washed over her. The weight of the newly purchased firearm in her hand was a stark reminder of her life‘s new reality.  On one hand, she couldn't deny the growing concerns for her safety and the need for self-defence, but on the other, the idea of carrying such a deadly weapon filled her with apprehension.  She knew that owning a gun meant acknowledging a world where she might be forced to use it.

She placed her gun on the passenger seat next to her and took out her iPhone to call Sarah, she had to cancel their usual Tuesday morning coffee date at Cravings.

Sarah’s phone went straight to voicemail, she left a message.

“Hey Sarah, it’s Julie. So, this sucks, but I can’t meet you tomorrow at Cravings, I forgot about the EMT appointment I have.  I’ll make it up to you I promise.  Love you, Sarah babe.”

She hung up her phone and threw it on the passenger seat next to her brand new Glock 18 semi-automatic, and drove off.

    ***********************

Across town, beneath a crumbling bridge on the outskirts of the city, two shady figures were talking with sinister intentions. Cloaked in trench coats, they bore the unmistakable aura of seasoned criminals. One, a strong, confident figure, leaned against a decaying support pillar, his face hidden beneath the brim of his baseball hat. The other, shorter and wiry, stood with a perpetual air of nervous energy. Cigarette smoke swirled around him, casting eerie shadows on his face as they spoke in hushed tones.

Their conversation, shrouded in secrecy, revolved around the killing of Julie Koop. The taller man's voice conveyed an air of authority as he discussed the contact.

“… blue eyes, long dark hair.”

The shorter man, his eyes darting around as if to ward off any potential eavesdroppers, nodded in agreement. The exchange of an envelope full of cash sealed their deadly deal, leaving behind an ominous sense that fate itself was being manipulated under that desolate bridge in the heart of the criminal underworld.

“Her name is Julie Koop. You’ll find her tomorrow at Cravings Coffee on Marine Drive in White Rock.  Get it done”

The small wiry man nodded and shoved the envelope full of cash into the inside pocket of his trench coat.