“Janet” is a name engraved on the body of the lever action pistol, what I am assume is a pistol that the blonde woman is observing. “Is this sort of business hard?” Her gaze is on me, briefly, returning to the lever action. “Business? Not entirely, be faster and better I suppose.” She speaks with a western drawl, her finger tips grazing the body of the gun. Putting a cigarette in her mouth, I offer her a light, which she accepts. I am hanging on every word, then, she rests her back on the table, loading the weapon from a cardboard box of ammunition.
“What do I, what, ” I stop, she’s staring at me, blue eyes still holding the copper tip bullet outside of the loading section of the pistol. “Nervous?” A smile. The bullet clicks and she pulls down on the lever and back in one swift stroke.
She takes aim with ease, pulling the trigger the shock barely shifts her. In the distance, the target flutters. A hole in the center of the silhouette outline where the nose would be.
“I won’t tell you to be nervous, I will tell you to be careful.”
She works the lever action, an empty cartridge ejected from Janet. “I won’t hesitate if you’re in my way.”