Chapter 1

I took a deep breath as I walked into the apartment. While I was at work Ruth must have turned the heat down because it was really cold!

“I’m home,” I announced when she wasn’t in the front room. Movement could be heard from the bedroom, and a couple seconds later the door opened. Ruth’s normally well brushed hair was a tangled mess and was only wearing her underwear. That wasn’t like her, and even if it was I had no idea how she wasn’t freezing. Even when just around the apartment she normally at least wore one of her nightgowns.

“Hello, David.” After having gotten used to her almost exclusively calling me ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ I almost winced at how formal she sounded. She’d started acting distant and agitated a couple days before, and it seemed to be getting worse. Regardless I approached her intending to kiss her ‘hello,’ but when I got to the doorway she stepped back and adopted a very standoffish posture. With a sigh I backed away too. I was about to ask what was wrong for the dozenth time, but remembering how she snapped at me the last time I stopped myself. Instead I took the conversation into a different, but also slightly hazardous direction.

“Do you mind if I go to the range with Tom tonight,” I asked.

“That would be fine,” she answered curtly, though I was relieved that at least she didn’t seem to be bothered by my choice of activity.

“Want me to pick you up something to eat on the way home?”

“That would be appreciated.” I was glad that she at least had an appetite. Though if anything, it seemed like she was eating more than usual!

“Does something sound good in particular?”

“No, anything’s fine,” she answered, shaking her head.

“Ok then. I’m gonna head out after getting cleaned up.” We both turned away and she went back into the bedroom while I went to the bathroom to take a shower.

After washing I spent only a few minutes in the bedroom getting dressed, and Ruth just laid on the bed reading. We didn’t really say anything other than ‘bye’ when I left the room.

Entering the spare room I opened up the gun safe. I passed over my usual carry revolver and instead pulled out my largest handgun, one that I bought years ago on a whim. Chambered in .454 Casull, it was even more powerful than the infamous .44 magnum and could put down just about anything walked on land. Tom nicknamed it The Beast when I got it and the name stuck. With a sigh I strapped the massive hunk of steel and its holster to my belt, stuffed a couple boxes of ammo in my backpack along with my .22 revolver for warming up, and headed out.

When I got to the shooting range Tom’s car was already in the parking lot. I headed inside and he was at the counter buying a couple boxes of range ammo. We greeted each other briefly as I walked up and paid for the lane rental.

“Hey, how ya doing?” He asked as we headed back.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Alright? Ruth still acting weird?”

“Yeah...” I answered under my breath.

“I still think it’s probably that time of the month.”

“We’ve been living together for almost a year and she’s never been like this before.”

“Have you asked her directly?” I snorted.

“Yeah, and she almost bit my head off last time!” I exclaimed.

“Maybe you could see if your sister has any ideas.” I stroked my chin for a second.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll give her a call on the way home.” I put on my safety glasses and hearing protection and that was the end of the conversation.

We shared a lane like we usually did. He watched my form while he reloaded his magazines, and while he shot I watched his. It worked well for us.

I put up a couple of targets side-by-side, one for each of us, and sent them out to ten yards to start. I pulled out my little .22 to warm up with while Tom loaded up some of the target rounds he bought at the counter.

By the time he was ready to shoot I’d loaded up and shot two cylinders. My grouping was about two inches across and pulling to the right about an inch. It wasn’t bad, but not up to my personal standards for that distance, especially with how easy the .22 was to shoot!

“You’re jittery. Take a few breaths before your next round,” critiqued Tom as he stepped past me.

He squeezed off his first shot and to my surprise it hit about two inches below the bull’s eye! While I was normally better at skeet shooting than him, Tom was an incredible marksman with a handgun!

He popped off the rest of the magazine and I was shocked to find that I’d shot better than him!

“Your grouping’s a little loose. What’s going on?” I asked while he reloaded.

“I dunno,” he grunted, before taking aim again. He shot his second mag with roughly the same results as the first. He left his gun on the firing bench but brought his magazines back behind the firing line to reload them while I walked back up to take my turn. I loaded the .22 again and took a couple deep breaths like Tom had suggested before firing. The results were a little better than the first round and I decided it was time to get down to business. I drew The Beast and loaded it with target round. After taking a couple more deep breaths I carefully squeezed the trigger.

BOOOOOOM

The rest of the range went quiet as the thunderous shockwave echoed through the room.

“That never gets old.” Chuckled Tom and after a few seconds of silence everyone else started shooting again. I looked at my target and was pleased that despite the ferocious recoil my shot was pretty good.

BOOOM

BOOOOOOM

I cranked off a couple more and was satisfied that while my accuracy wasn’t perfect, it was definitely serviceable. I fired the last three shots and pulled the target in. Somehow I managed to shoot better than with my .22! My grouping was around and inch and a half at it’s widest point, and the furthest one was only an inch below the center ring.

I set up another target, sent it out to 20 yards, and after reloading I shot off another cylinder with similar results. I glanced back at Tom, who had finished reloading.

“That was a bit better,” he said as we swapped placed again. He shot the contents of his magazines, but still wasn’t shooting up to par. Unfortunately I didn’t really see anything wrong with his form either, so I couldn’t give any pointers!.

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked when he came back to reload again.

“Yeah, I’ve just got something on my mind.” He said. “I’ll tell you about it later.” I just shrugged.

The rest of the range time went similarly. I tested my level of accuracy at several different ranges and was pretty happy with the results. Tom, on the other hand, seemed to be having issues. His groupings were loose and he had a quite a few ‘fliers.’

“So, you don’t normally bring the big boy out, what’s the occasion?” He asked once we were done and leaving the range.

“You remember me telling you that we were going to see Ruth’s dad?”

“You expected it to go that badly, huh?” Tom said with a laugh.

“Nah, I couldn’t bring myself to pull it on him, but I wouldn’t want to be helpless if we happen run into some other bull that takes exception to us.” He stopped laughing and took on a thoughtful expression.

“Makes sense.”

“I’d rather it stay on my hip...”

“I’ll bet,” Tom grunted in agreement as we reached his car and he put his gear in the back seat.

“What about you? You said there was something on your mind.”