Safe Arms Novels & Stories

Check this perimeter, report it through the walkie-talkie, and hand it to me. Salem is the leader, I said, giving it to him. Betty smiled. "I see, okay, as long as you’re doing your jobs. And be careful!" she shouted as we left the office. Liam turned to me and said, I need my handmade weapons. Guns bring in more infected. I nodded, and he left to retrieve them. We waited by the gate until he returned carrying the weapons. The sticks were thick; one side had a metal blade, the other a bunch of nails sticking out.

“Weapons. Ammunition. Enough to cripple an army. But you must ensure it arrives safely. As always.” Bruno’s lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile. “Nothing touches my goods,” he said. “Nothing survives if it tries.”

Aimee Carter had just announced her return in the bluntest way possible, and Brax couldn't help but be impressed. The dagger he had given her for her sweet sixteenth aimed straight and true at the prospect's throat, her classic evade and attack move was swift and lethal, just like he'd taught her, and once released the boy had wasted no time heading to Wild Bill's office. The sound of the president's angry roar disrupted the club's easygoing vibe, and his thundering footsteps sounded ominous as they neared the bar. Braxton readied himself as the door separating the club bar from the business quarters flew open, the hinges screaming in protest as the huge man barrelled through,

He recited the prayer he incantated with full faith and reverence. "This is a sidearm." He said as he approached. "In order to use it, you will need to cock the safety hammer off." He pointed at the hammer behind the barrel. "You point at your target and fire. Be aware of the recoil." He said as he handed it to her butt first. She grabbed it like a kid receiving a toy and immediately gripped it with the finger on the top of the trigger. "Watch where you point that--?! Dammit, nurse! Trigger discipline!" He yelled.

"Abram! Behind the pillar!" He didn't hesitate. He lunged across the open space of the safehouse, his boots skidding on a discarded rug. Bullets chewed up the floor behind him, spitting splinters into the air. He reached her, his massive frame shielding her body as he hauled her toward the kitchen island. "Stay low. Don't move until I tell you." Abram’s jaw creaked as he ground his teeth. He pulled a black serrated blade from his boot and checked the chamber of his sidearm. His knuckles were bloodless white against the grip.

~ CATHERINE ~ I press the numerical keypad in front of me. When the safe clicks open, I grab my shoulder holster, slide the leather straps over my arms, and reach for a pair of Berettas. I check each chamber, then the magazines, before flipping the safeties and slipping them into place. “Who are your enemies, Catherine?”

I pressed, my voice firmer now. He sighed, his eyes clouding over. "Let's just say we're going to be making some...unconventional business deals and you need to be safe and be able to protect yourself as our rivals could use you as a pawn in the game to threaten or get me and I can't afford to be put in that spot that is why you need to be armed and ready to defend yourself at all times. But I'll be with you every step of the way, Jada. I promise you'll be safe."

I look from it to him and tilt my head. "Is this for me?" I ask. "Yes." "Oh," I say, quickly losing interest in the headphones. Ryan sits at the table. "The first rule of gun safety is always treat a gun like it's loaded, even if you know it isn't. Far too many people get shot because someone's being stupid and didn't know the gun was loaded. The second is that you never point it at someone you don't intend to shoot. Third, you keep your finger off of the trigger unless you're about to shoot. Fourth, even if the safety is on, treat the gun as though it's not."

A few hired hands would be plenty. According to Survival Rule #2: [Inside your vehicle, you are the absolute master. Players cannot harm you while you're inside. Items in your vehicle cannot be stolen—unless you die.] Hiring help was completely safe. Jake filed that thought away and turned back to the chat. He posted the same message seven or eight times. [Buying: Armored Ballistic Steel.] [Note: Open to trades. DM for pricing.] An hour later, he'd only managed to buy 20 units—and it cost him 5 units of Universal Fuel.

She’d changed, black tactical pants, fitted long-sleeves, hair braided tight back from her face. Knife strapped at her thigh. My chest did something complicated and dangerous. “You’re not carrying heavy,” I said. “I’m armed,” she replied. I looked at the blade. Then at her. “Stay behind the initial breach,” I said. “You move when I move.” She nodded once. No argument. That worried me more. Nevio handed her a compact pistol. “Safety here. Two-stage trigger. Don’t hesitate.” She took it without flinching. God.