worried over their families, as he did, but unlike him, they also carried an overwhelming sense of faith.
He pretended his faith in front of Tana and the kids. What else could he do? They looked up to him for some reason. Support? Good news? Courage? If they could look inside him, they would find none of those things. They’d find fear and little else. Of course, being scared didn’t relieve him of his responsibilities to his students. And to Tana.
Tana opened her closet and vanished inside among the rows of hanging shirts, trousers, and dresses, all of which looked too much like figures waiting in the dark.
When she reappeared, she held a large suitcase. “This is it.” She placed the case on the bed, thumbed the latch, and flipped back the wide lid. “Not a whole lot, but better than a bloody cricket bat, right?”
She reached in with her free hand and fetched a cloth-covered shape. “This is a .40 caliber gold-plated handgun,” she said as she removed the cloth cover. “And check this out.” A red pinpoint of light appeared, cutting the darkness like a blade. “A laser sight.” She passed it to Stu. “Larry brought home three of these.”
Stu took the gun and pointed it toward a framed print of Pink Floyd’s The Wall movie poster. “Is there ammo?”
“Are you kidding?” She disappeared back into the closet and returned with a smaller case. She opened the top and dumped out around twenty boxes of ammo.
Stu grabbed a box and examined it with his flashlight. He picked up a second box and found that it contained rifle rounds. “What are these for?”
Tana reached into the case and removed a larger shape concealed by a thick cloth. “This.” She unwrapped a rifle as carefully as she might a coveted Christmas gift. “This is a Browning semi-automatic. I don’t know much about guns and have only shot a couple of times with Larry at a range. But I’m willing to guess this might kick a little ass.”
Stu laid the handgun aside and took the rifle. “I’m willing to guess you’re right.” He glanced at her. “How many of these do you have?”
“Two. I’m thinking this might get us back to the store without getting killed. We need to make sure George gets one. I’ve no question he knows how to use it. If we can defend ourselves, our options are wide open.”
Tana went over to her boys’ room. Stu heard her say something about Stormtrooper Underoos, and the teenagers laughed. When she returned, she had a Hogwarts messenger bag in her hand. She dumped the contents—textbooks, pencils, a comic book, a spiral notebook onto the floor and began shoving boxes of ammo.
“Which gun do you want?” she asked.
“None, actually, but since I don’t wanna die today, I’ll take a handgun. I’ll need to sight it if I plan on hitting anything.” Stu checked the magazine, then slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans, not liking the weight or the cool touch of the steel against his skin.
“You aren’t keen on guns, I take it?” Tana loaded the .40 caliber and slid it into her jacket pocket.
Stu shook his head. “Hate them, but these are different times. I used to shoot a little. My father made me hunt with him when I was a boy. He thought it might keep me from becoming soft.” He laughed with more bitterness than he intended.
Tana touched his shoulder. “Guns don’t make a man a man.”
“They don’t hurt, I suppose,” Stu said.
“What about Brett and Josh?”
“Give them the rifles. Both of them like to hunt. We’re from the South. Bubba-blood runs deep.” Stu chuckled, but Tana didn’t seem to get the joke. “They know more about handling guns than I do. They’ll be fine.”
Tana began rummaging through her dresser drawers. “Listen, Stu. Why don’t you take a look around the apartment and see if there is anything else we could use? I just want to grab a few more things. It could be a while before I get back here.”
Stu nodded. “Maybe not too long,” he said, though
He pretended his faith in front of Tana and the kids. What else could he do? They looked up to him for some reason. Support? Good news? Courage? If they could look inside him, they would find none of those things. They’d find fear and little else. Of course, being scared didn’t relieve him of his responsibilities to his students. And to Tana.
Tana opened her closet and vanished inside among the rows of hanging shirts, trousers, and dresses, all of which looked too much like figures waiting in the dark.
When she reappeared, she held a large suitcase. “This is it.” She placed the case on the bed, thumbed the latch, and flipped back the wide lid. “Not a whole lot, but better than a bloody cricket bat, right?”
She reached in with her free hand and fetched a cloth-covered shape. “This is a .40 caliber gold-plated handgun,” she said as she removed the cloth cover. “And check this out.” A red pinpoint of light appeared, cutting the darkness like a blade. “A laser sight.” She passed it to Stu. “Larry brought home three of these.”
Stu took the gun and pointed it toward a framed print of Pink Floyd’s The Wall movie poster. “Is there ammo?”
“Are you kidding?” She disappeared back into the closet and returned with a smaller case. She opened the top and dumped out around twenty boxes of ammo.
Stu grabbed a box and examined it with his flashlight. He picked up a second box and found that it contained rifle rounds. “What are these for?”
Tana reached into the case and removed a larger shape concealed by a thick cloth. “This.” She unwrapped a rifle as carefully as she might a coveted Christmas gift. “This is a Browning semi-automatic. I don’t know much about guns and have only shot a couple of times with Larry at a range. But I’m willing to guess this might kick a little ass.”
Stu laid the handgun aside and took the rifle. “I’m willing to guess you’re right.” He glanced at her. “How many of these do you have?”
“Two. I’m thinking this might get us back to the store without getting killed. We need to make sure George gets one. I’ve no question he knows how to use it. If we can defend ourselves, our options are wide open.”
Tana went over to her boys’ room. Stu heard her say something about Stormtrooper Underoos, and the teenagers laughed. When she returned, she had a Hogwarts messenger bag in her hand. She dumped the contents—textbooks, pencils, a comic book, a spiral notebook onto the floor and began shoving boxes of ammo.
“Which gun do you want?” she asked.
“None, actually, but since I don’t wanna die today, I’ll take a handgun. I’ll need to sight it if I plan on hitting anything.” Stu checked the magazine, then slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans, not liking the weight or the cool touch of the steel against his skin.
“You aren’t keen on guns, I take it?” Tana loaded the .40 caliber and slid it into her jacket pocket.
Stu shook his head. “Hate them, but these are different times. I used to shoot a little. My father made me hunt with him when I was a boy. He thought it might keep me from becoming soft.” He laughed with more bitterness than he intended.
Tana touched his shoulder. “Guns don’t make a man a man.”
“They don’t hurt, I suppose,” Stu said.
“What about Brett and Josh?”
“Give them the rifles. Both of them like to hunt. We’re from the South. Bubba-blood runs deep.” Stu chuckled, but Tana didn’t seem to get the joke. “They know more about handling guns than I do. They’ll be fine.”
Tana began rummaging through her dresser drawers. “Listen, Stu. Why don’t you take a look around the apartment and see if there is anything else we could use? I just want to grab a few more things. It could be a while before I get back here.”
Stu nodded. “Maybe not too long,” he said, though
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