Encounter 13 - DGU
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
*clickclickclick*
FUCK!
Use the keypad.
I tiptoed to the driver door.
Three, five, eight, five, seven.
*tak* *pop* *tak* *SLAM*
I checked the balls of light ahead. They were closer. I tiptoed back to the trunk.
*clok* *ssssst*
One shot should do it but load up just in case.
I opened a box of buckshot rounds with one hand, holding my Winchester in the other.
*tok* *SNAP* *tok* *tok* *tok* *tok* *tok*
*CRAK CRAK*
My finger resting on the trigger guard, I leaned to the right side of my car. The lights were close enough now to the fire I could make out a rough silhouette. This was a coyote, and from the looks of it there was likely another coyote trailing the leader.
Give a warning shot first.
I took aim above their heads.
*BANG!*
They backed up a few inches.
Come on motherfuckers...
*BANG!*
They didn’t move.
You had your warning...
After seconds of deliberation I scuffled to the front of the car and aimed the barrel at the leader’s eyes.
*BANG!*
It died instantly. The one behind retreated by about a foot. I returned my finger to the trigger guard.
Let it live, Mark.
My hands and weapon at the ready, I charged the coyote, roaring like an ogre. Making as much noise as I could, the coyote crouched down as I zeroed in on it, and once I had gotten within a yard it scampered off in the opposite direction. Into the sky I discharged a supplemental round.
*BANG!*
===
As Mark defended us from the coyotes I hadn’t made a move or a sound. In fact I’d simply hardened my body into plastic — there was no feature on me made of any other material. Though I lowered this defense after Mark’s fourth shot, for he’d slumped to his knees, then his stomach. As I reverted to my non-plastic self I saw his finger click on the safety of his shotgun, then the palm of his hand took its rest on the weapon’s hilt.
I rushed to him at this sight. “Mark! MARK!!” I yelled, buzzing across the earthly ground. I halted once I reached him, my hands rubbing his back. “Are you okay Mark? Hey, hey honey I’m here... I’m here...”
“T-take... take my gun please... s-safety’s on... put it in the car...” He rolled off of it, stretching.
“Got it. How do I unload it?”
“Keep the safety on, point the gun at the ground, rack the bolt twice. Two shells should come out.”
I tentatively handled the gun, taking care to avoid the trigger. Pointing down, I followed Mark’s directions.
*CRAK CRAK*
*CRAK CRAK*
===
I’d hobbled to my feet by now, doing a few windmills to stretch my calves and back. Asking Rebecca for my gun and its unused ammunition I brought those items to the back of my Ford, the trunk popped thanks to my girlfriend stretching her arm onto my key fob. I replaced everything as it was, minus four shells. For the first time in my life, seeing my ammo box gave me chills.
“Honey I need to sleep, like now.” But the thought of sleeping caused my mind to run into an obstacle: what if those coyotes weren’t alone?
“I do too. Let’s—“
“Wait.” I popped the trunk again to retrieve my shotgun and its shells. “Those... they’re dogs, those coyotes couldn’t have been solo... there have to be more around here.”
“You’re not gonna hunt them down... are you?”
“No. But... if more come by... and I’m not up...” I tilted the gun toward her. “Could you defend us?”
===
“Def— I... I don’t... I’m not that brave, I can’t be that brave... I don’t know how to use a shotgun or load it or shoot accurately...”
“Can I show you,” offered Mark, a little raspy. There was then a pause.
“Um... y-yes...”
“And um, keep in mind that I want you to learn this weapon as a survival skill. If you can take a pack of coyotes on with just your powers... I guess go for it, if it won’t hurt you.”
“I get that Mark.”
“Here, what I want you to do first is not even operate any controls, just examine the gun. I’m going to grab bug spray for good measure.”
I nodded and he left. Doing what I was told I observed the shotgun’s every feature, noticing especially the lack of a pump in exchange for a small bolt handle. I found the safety adjacent to the trigger, it was on of course, and I located the magazine entry in front of said trigger.
Knowing the basics of gun safety I held the weapon up to my shoulder and aimed at a nearby tree. My finger rested on the trigger guard but I could still find my stance from here. Experimenting with different bodies I observed how altering my height, fat, and muscle levels affected how I handled the weapon. By the time I heard Mark returning in my direction I was a 6‘3” bodybuilder version of my own self, but I shapeshifted back down to my native form because it’s probably best to learn how to shoot in my unchanged body.
===
“Good, I see your stance is pretty decent, but you’re making the right move is morphing back to your normal self. Emergencies and self defense scenarios don’t accommodate for shapeshifting powers.”
“I know. Alright, so what do I need to learn here?” she asked. I pointed out the safety, bolt handle, and magazine entry.
“Semi-auto shotguns are quite simple once you get past the words ‘semi-auto.’” Demonstrating how to load rounds, the procedure to fire, and rehashing the unloading directions, I smiled at Rebecca when she said that she has it down. “We can practice tomorrow,” I affirmed, giving her a pat on the back and resting the gun on our table. Retrieving the mosquito repellent, I sprayed myself down and she followed once I was finished.
From there I unzipped the tent with the Winchester in hand and its ammo in my pocket. Seeing as we already had everything set up inside, I gave Rebecca a polite “After you,” and we settled into our sleeping bags. The main door to the tent was left open with its mosquito net guarding the entry. I sat my shotgun above our heads with the ammo adjacent to it, checking one last time it was unloaded and safetied. “Good night Rebecca.”
“Good night Mark. I love you.”
“I love you too. Sorry tonight was so rough for you.”
“Nothing to apologize for, sweetie.”
We smooched each other’s lips, and within a few minutes of rustling I’d fallen asleep.
===
About a half hour later I tried to speak to Mark but it seemed he’d drifted off. I sighed and tried to meditate or at least push myself to a dream-like mode but those efforts failed. Soon smiling slightly however, I redefined myself as a ‘thicc’ Rebecca — one of the frames in which I practiced aiming Mark’s weapon. It certainly was quite sexy, and the extra fat on my gut was kinda cute. I grinned and laid down on my back, giving my enlarged breasts soft idle squeezes, sometimes extending my neck so I could rest my face between them.
That night I was in la-la-land as I toyed with my boobs like putty or let them sink down on my torso like goo. I’ll have to let Mark mold these puppies around someday, I cooed in thought at one point. At other times I considered transforming into only a pair of breasts, another time a single firm tit, some minutes later a bra. Maybe even a bikini set.
As my wonders, thoughts and muses devolved themselves into abstract murmurs within my brain, I grew sleepier and sleepier. With one hand poking at my belly and the other around my right cup, I let myself fall limp and into a peaceful outdoor slumber.