A Broken Time by Anna Oney

Author:Anna Oney [Oney, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: IndiePen
Published: 2019-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Fawn took her first steps within the armory and looked about. The last thing she remembered was hearing a knock coming from the other side of the pit’s wall.

“Something like this has happened to me before,” Fawn said.

Fawn reminisced over the altercation she’d had with Big Sneed and how she’d awoke with no recollection as to how she came to be lying healed in she and Hunter’s bed.

“Whomever helped me then,” she said, turning to face Davlyn and Noelle, “must’ve stepped in and got us out of the pit.”

“Okay,” Noelle said. “But why bring us here?”

“So, we can stock up,” Davlyn replied, closing the distance between herself and the bows lining the wall. “Obviously,” she said and paused, picking up a bow. “Whomever they are, they’re welcome to share a drink with me anytime.” She studied the bow, turning it over in her hands and running her palm down the curved limb. “Cousin, I think this one is mine.”

“Really?” Fawn said, walking up behind her. “Maybe mine’s here, too.”

Fawn scanned over Stagecoach’s fine display of craftsmanship. She reached for a longbow with her initials engraved on the lower part of the curved limb. Her arrows, sporting cardinal feathers for fletching, came into focus amongst the piles of others. Not wanting to use anything Clancy’s townspeople had constructed, she picked through every arrow until she had collected all of those she had meticulously assembled with her own hands.

Noelle licked her bottom lip as she picked up one of the automatic rifles.

“Ah,” Noelle said, turning the rifle over in her hands. “My favorite.”

Fawn and Davlyn put loading their arrows into their quivers on hold. They stared after Noelle walking toward the cedar chest full of ammunition.

“Um,” Davlyn squeaked. “What cha doing there?”

Noelle leaned the automatic rifle against the chest before clasping her hand around the same curved, rectangle-shaped device that had birthed the golden tube.

“Loading my weapon,” she replied, studying the top of the curved rectangle. “This is called a magazine,” she continued — her eyes focused on the double stack of golden tubes hidden inside. “Just looking to see which side the top bullet is on.”

She wedged the magazine under her armpit and picked up the rifle leaning against the chest. Using the palm of her hand, Noelle slammed the magazine into a socket at the bottom of the rifle. She looked up to find Fawn and Davlyn gawking at her.

“What?” she asked and shrugged. “I’ve learned some things over the seventeen and a half years I’ve been living. It’s not that hard to catch onto when you’re surrounded by it, day in and day out.”

Davlyn leaned toward Fawn’s ear.

“She scares me sometimes.”

“Same here,” Fawn replied and smiled, resuming loading her arrows into their quivers. “But I like it.”

Five minutes later, Fawn and Davlyn had finished stuffing their quivers with arrows. Upon further inspection of the room, Fawn was grateful to find her father’s hatchet piled with the others in the far corner. She guided the stock of the hatchet through a loop at her side and crisscrossed the straps of her quivers over her chest.

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