AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This is some serious security. Any idea of the combination?” Bash asked.
Morgan thought for a minute. “Maybe,” she said, twisting her lips. “Could you give me a little more light?”
He held the flashlight beam above the keypad while she tried a few combinations. It was hit or miss, considering she had no clue how many numbers it took. Mere seconds later, there was a tone and a click.
“Yippie! Got it, Pops!” she shouted with a fist bump to the air.
“I can’t even imagine how you figured that out,” he mumbled under his breath.
He lit up the safe as she opened the door.
“Fuuuuccckkk,” he said in a long sigh.
“What did I tell you about using that word, Mr. Potty Mouth?” she admonished.
“This kind of warrants it, don’t you think?” When she didn’t answer, he studied her expression, trying to read her reaction to the contents. “You don’t seem surprised.” It wasn’t a question.
She bit her bottom lip. “Not really. I’ve seen some of these, but not all. I assure you I knew nothing about this room. I told you Pops was a paranoid man. At least now I know why.”
The vault was loaded with guns and ammunition. Every shape and size. Some Bash recognized from movies and television shows, but his knowledge of weaponry was limited to research for his novels and holding a .9 mm for a photo shoot. While he stared in awe, Morgan began picking them up one at a time, pulling them apart and putting them back together with an expertise that shocked him speechless.
“Wh…What…” He was having trouble forming words.
“Checking them for ammunition. Keep the light in this direction, please,” she said, as casually as if she were checking for water spots on clean dishes.
“Do you know how to fire any of them?”
“I know how to load and fire most of them,” she said, slamming a clip back into a handgun. “Most of these used to be in a safe in our home. Pops must have moved them here when he sold it.”
His mouth dropped open. “You didn’t find it a bit suspicious that your Pops had so many guns?” he said incredulously.
“This is not uncommon in parts of the rural south. And I told you Pops was overprotective. Just thought he was being cautious. It never occurred to me he had a legitimate reason. Now I know he was preparing me to take care of myself.”
A single black leather-bound book sat on the top shelf. He pointed it out to Morgan, who waved him permission to go ahead. There wasn’t enough light in the room to thoroughly review it, so he tucked it under my arm for later. After Morgan carefully checked every single gun, she pulled out two boxes of ammo and grabbed a black metallic handgun, and handed it to him.
“See how it feels in your hand.”
The absolute horror on his face spoke volumes.
“Are you going to be a wuss, or do you want to live? Your choice,” she deadpanned.
“My knowledge of guns is from research. I write about them, but I have no practical experience. Nor do I want to gain any.”
“Like I asked. Do you want to live? Stand on your anti-gun platform with someone who isn’t running from the mob and an outlaw motorcycle gang.”
Bash was stunned into silence. Seeing the plethora of guns brought the precariousness of their situation into stark reality. How the hell have I gotten myself into this mess?”
Morgan sat him down in the only chair in the small room and knelt in front of him.
“Look, Bash. This is way too much for you to have to deal with. You didn’t grow up with a grandfather putting a rifle in your hands at four-years-old. This is all surreal to you. It’s commonplace for me. Granted, I never had to shoot anything other than a deer or rabbit when I went hunting with Pops. Let me get a few things for my personal safety, then we’ll go. You can drop me off at the nearest car rental and head to the airport to catch a flight to Chicago. Your friend Gray will get you all set up with security.”
Bash wasn’t planning to bail on her. He was merely trying to get his head around the situation.
“What kind is it?” he asked.
“What kind is what?”
“The gun you gave me?”
