The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

She was conflicted, unable to make up her mind. Logic dictated getting a firearm. The thugs had guns, thus she could defend herself and Nat better if she had one too. Her katana was good in close range combat, but more than once she and Nat had been shot at from a distance. Yes, it was sensible to get a gun and learn to use it. But then…

There was nothing fair or elegant about the weapon. She winced at the thought. As if the katana was any better—guns and swords both were designed to kill people. That fairness and elegance she had cherished when practising katas with her sword was an illusion. The reality was this manhunt. Stalo hunted Anouk and Nat as much as they hunted him. Or rather, he hired others to do his dirty work. Typical noble—hiding behind the backs of his henchmen.

Anouk sighed and peered through the carriage window. The haze hung in the sky above Rondon thicker than the day before, like the heavy feeling over Anouk’s mind. She and Nat had met with Chief Constable Loka, given briefings of their progress and were given information on the Royal Enforcers progress; according to the chief constable, it had been close to nil.

Someone had been busy though. The bodies of three more bounty hunters had been found between Flower Estate and The Pits. The chief constable said there was no evidence to suggest who had killed the men. Regardless of his enforcer’s ‘efforts’, no one had seen or heard anything. But who else could it have been but Stalo and his men? That meant every bounty hunter was hard at it chasing Stalo, trying to claim the reward.

“The body count in those two districts has risen alarmingly within just a few days,” the chief constable added. His expression had grown sour when he spoke about the pressures his seniors loaded on his shoulders with their demands of sending more patrols.

“We need more resources. But do the politicians listen? No. When it comes to questions of getting funding for the operations, suddenly there is none.” He threw his hands up. “And then we get blamed when criminals go free.”

For the first time, Anouk felt genuine sympathy towards the chief constable. He clearly cared for Rondon and the officers, but then he also had to deal with bureaucrats who had different ideas about financial priorities.

The carriage swayed when it hit a hole in the road, bringing Anouk back to the present. She became aware that Nat had said something and was looking at her. “Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

He gave her a brief smile. “I asked if you have come to any decision about the revolver. We could get you one now while at Amanda’s Emporium.”

Anouk grimaced. She had hoped the whole thing would be forgotten, or at least she’d be given more time to consider it. To allow more time for that little girl in the backseat of Dad’s car to get used to the idea. She sighed. She was an adult now. Having a gun and using it responsibly would be proof she was stronger than her father. Plus, Nat would feel more at ease if she carried one, and Vari, since she suggested it. There was no reason to postpone the acquisition. She was a bounty hunter, albeit on a fixed term contract, and this world seemed to run on guns. Why couldn’t Nat be from a world that used only swords as weapons?

“Alright.” Anouk sighed again. “Let’s get me a gun.”

“Good,” Nat said, satisfied.

“You have to teach me how to use it.”

“Of course. I’ll show you all the tricks. Amanda has a shooting range in her basement, so we can start right away.”

“She has?”

“Naturally. How else could you test a new revolver?”

Anouk shrugged, bewildered. “I honestly don’t know.” She paused and shook her head. “You wouldn’t guess she’s an arms dealer by the look of her.”

Nat chuckled. “No.”

The carriage halted with a jump. After paying the driver, they stepped into Amanda’s Emporium. The bell clanked when the door closed. Amanda stood behind the counter, serving a woman who was holding two different hats in her hands. Another woman browsed kettles, stacked on a shelf.

“I’ll be with you soon,” Amanda chirped to Nat and Anouk.

“Thank you, madam.” Nat bowed his head, touching his hand on the rim of his top hat while Anouk gave her a quick nod.

The two women, both in their fifties and better off than most of the people Anouk had seen around the area, judging by their clean and patch-free dresses, glanced at them with suspicion and disdain. Anouk nodded with a smile to them, but they sniffed and turned their heads.

“Charming ladies,” Anouk whispered to Nat.

They moved around the shop, browsing the goods as if searching for something special among the knick-knacks occupying the shelves and tables. Most were familiar to Anouk —pots, mugs, chandeliers, brass boxes. Yes, it would be hard to make a living selling only ornaments.

The doorbell clattered again. The women had left with their purchases. Anouk and Nat walked to Amanda, who was standing behind the counter, a wide smile on her face.

“What can I do for you?”

“We need some more of those excellent knockout gas balls.” Nat then waved his hand towards Anouk. “Also, Anouk needs a gun.”

Amanda’s eyes lit up. “Follow me.” She strode toward the curtains leading to the backroom. She looked over her shoulder. “So the knockout balls worked?”

“Perfectly.”

“Excellent. I’ll pass the news to the manufacturer. They were a new, improved model.”

“Improved model?” Anouk’s voice squeaked.

“Yes, sturdier glass,” Amanda replied with a grin and pushed the curtain aside. Humming, she vanished into the back of the room.

“Sturdier glass? An improved model?” Anouk gaped at Nat.

“Absolutely.”

“But…” Anouk started but Amanda returned, carrying a box. She laid it on the table and opened the lid. The box was full of brown paper-wrapped balls. “How many?”

“Four, please,” Nat replied.

Amanda laid the balls on