Revy Pistol Novels & Stories

He starts, patting Seth violently on the back, Seth meets him with a cheerful demeanor as well, "What kind is it? It looks old but polished!" Seth's eyebrows raise as he takes his revolver from its holster, "Colt 1851 Navy Revolver." Seth looks over to another revolver tied to his arm sitting under his coat. He takes it out as well, "And this one is a Colt Pocket Revolver." Seth examines the barrel as if reminiscing. "You like?" "Yeah, it's very interesting, especially how old they are, how are they in such wonderful condition!"

Each clean shot represented a pack member fighting through pain and weakness to protect their own. The black market arsenal he'd acquired over the years—fifty Barrett M82/M107s, fifty CheyTac M200 Interventions, fifty Accuracy International AX50s, fifty McMillan TAC-50s, and fifty Sako TRG 42s—now proved their worth. Enough firepower to wage a small war, and they were using every bit of it.

22 caliber revolver. "Is this what you're looking for?" Eugene took out the revolver buried among the candy sticks and placed it on the table. "May I take a look?" Tony Rico asked. Eugene silently nodded. Tony Rico picked up the revolver and examined it. He tilted the cylinder to check the fully loaded bullets and put his finger on the trigger, aiming at empty space to check the sights. After confirming that the serial number had been cleanly removed, Tony Rico put the revolver back down on the table.

Red lights were a suggestion to him, mostly depending on how many cars were crossing his path. “Here.” I looked down at my lap to see a pistol in my lap. Taking it, I inspected it. It was a semi-automatic pistol. Looking at the lines, I was pretty sure it was a K100 model. Checking the magazine, it was completely loaded with fifteen rounds. Slamming it back in place, I felt the weight of it in my left hand. The weight wasn’t too bad and I knew the recoil on these weren’t nearly as bad as others. “I also have these. You might find more use with these. I would say the gun is for emergencies.”

Eryx, however, showed no signs of fear; everyone in the city knew how unpredictable he could be while on duty. “I need the medical reports you've collected from West Falls Village, from start to finish, as well as every application you've submitted to regulatory agencies,” Eryx demanded, his tone firm. The man’s frown deepened; he was clearly rattled. How could Eryx know so much? Revilla observed quietly, realizing she might not have a significant role in this confrontation. The man nodded and began rummaging through his drawer, pulling out a pistol and preparing to shoot Eryx. But just then, Revilla kicked the gun away, causing him to stumble. She quickly pressed his head down onto the tabl

He says giving me a gun. "Have you ever used a gun?" He asks and I shake my head no. "That is a Beretta Cheetah. It is a semi-automatic pistol so you have to be careful. It gives quite the blowback if you don't have experience with guns so you have to be prepared." He explains and I nod. I just can't get over the fact that he looks so sexy. He took of his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up and let me tell you, wheeehooo.

After trying the device for a while, Ravyn picked up a pistol with a familiar shape and a pair of shoes. But the limit on the maximum number of Airtechs available before getting the Airburst license was 2, so she had to cut some of them off. "Interesting choice. Though, are you sure you want to try it that way?" Jae, as a trainer, asked Ravyn, who now carries a pistol with a blue glow from its joint on her right hand while having a futuristic shoe radiating the same color under her left foot.

I can't help but notice the look of satisfaction on his face as he turns the corner and sees another. "You're enjoying this," I accuse. He nods once, and steps on the gas. Ryder hits two more zombies on our way to pick up Reese. He doesn't look surprised to see the blood smears on the car, and just shakes his head. Ryder gets out to help him, and I turn around in my seat to see what Reese managed to get. Reese throws a duffel bag overflowing with ammunition into the back, and sets two dangerous looking rifles next to it. He has another bag filled with handguns that he sets aside. Reese sees me looking and smiles. "Glock 17's. Do you know how to shoot a handgun?"

“Who told you anything about using my hands?” Right on cue, Herschel returned from outside with a Heckler & Koch MP7. Javier took the rather modest-sized gun from his hand and began to check its magazine. “Ah, Heckler & Koch MP7. A personal defense weapon with low recoil and high accuracy. A very effective gun in all respects, and very mobile as well. Plenty of countries outfit their military with it, including the Naval Special Warfare Development Group of Sammius,” he explained. “Sammius doesn’t do subpar weaponry, senior. So what does that say about this lil’ gun in my hand?

“Yeah. Something small. Something that fits in a purse and don’t forget.. it should be fully fucking loaded.” He nodded slowly. Honestly, I was really hoping he understood exactly what kind of “small” I meant, and led me toward the glass case at the back. Rows of handguns sat gleaming under the fluorescent lights, and for a second I just stared at them, feeling something settle in my chest that almost felt like calm. If they wanted a war, I’d give them one. “This one’s popular with women your size,” he said, sliding a compact black pistol across the counter and over to me. “Easy grip, light recoil.”