Radical Read Online Free Page B

safe-handling tips before we move on to monitored shooting.”
    A lot of groans, and then someone says, “Come on,” but I’m impressed. This isn’t just about safety, but actual proficiency.
    “Let’s break into three groups,” Randy says. He motions to indicate some of the older guys in back. “You guys are with me,” he says. “The rest of you split into two groups. One with Carl at firing point five and the other with Karen at firing point eight.”
    Four or five older guys filter through the group from the back and follow Randy, all looking a little resentful to be here. “I know, I know,” Randy says, waving off their grumbling. “We’ll do a quick run-through and then get you guys shooting.” He leads them toward firing point two.
    I’m right near Carl, so I join his group. He has his handgun holstered, but he places a rifle on the table, muzzle toward the targets. Then he just sort of looks at me.
    “Bex,” Mark says.
    “What?”
    Mark, Daniel, some mouth-breathing skinhead-wannabe loser, and the other three guys in my group are all glaring at me. And then I look over at the other group, which is clustered tight around Karen. Karen’s with the girls. The guys are here with Carl.
    Mark jerks his head toward Karen’s group.
    Apron Brigade for sure. Well, screw that. I turn so I’m facing Carl and wait.
    Carl stares for a few beats and then says, “Okay,” and he turns to place his handgun on the bench.
    He runs through the basic safety fast. Everyone here is experienced, but he still goes over the first-day-at-the-range basics, like how to always point the gun toward the targets or down, never leave a loaded gun on the table, finger off the trigger until you are actually in position, all guns unloaded until ready to shoot, et cetera.
    “What about open carry?” one of the guys asks. “I mean, we can carry out there, but we can’t carry here?”
    Carl takes a deep breath and looks over at Randy, but Randy is in the middle of explaining something to his group. “If you’re eighteen or older, and the firearm you’re carrying was legally purchased and is registered in your name, it’s fine to carry it on the land. But we’re encouraging everyone to exhibit some basic courtesy by the ranges. That means keeping handguns holstered and unloaded, and keeping long guns unloaded and open unless you are actively shooting.”
    “Bullshit, man,” the guy standing next to Mark says. “If I can carry out there, chambered and ready, I’m not disarming myself here.”
    “Well, you can take that up with Mr. Severnsen, who’s in charge of the ranges, or Mr. Riggs.”
    “Talk to Riggs about carrying?” one of the others says. “Yeah, right.”
    “Anyway,” Carl says, directing us back to the range rules.
    Then he makes each of us step forward and run through safety checks using his rifle and pistol. After each guy goes, Carl pulls him aside to make corrections or offer advice without tipping off the rest of us who have yet to be tested. The guy before me is a little too casual about it, and, from the looks of it, he gets more of a chewing-out than simple corrections.
    “Bex,” Carl says. I step forward. The doofus left the handgun pointing sideways on the bench with the magazine in
and
the action closed. Pretty much a what-not-to-do if you’re trying to show you know how to safely handle it. I pick up the pistol, point it downrange, remove the magazine, and put it on the table. I pull the slide back and hold it open, look in the chamber, and then hold it so Carl can also see that the chamber is empty. He nods his approval, so I let the slide slam forward on the empty chamber. I pick up the magazine, show him it’s empty, and slap it back in. I check that the safety is disengaged, sight on a target, and dry fire. I lock the slide back, remove the mag and put it down, and then set the pistol on the table with the muzzle pointed downrange and the action open. Carl smiles. I run through the checks