MARVIN PITTMAN AND LOGAN HIRSCH SHOOTING
Wednesday Morning Oct 1, 1980 Gunfire echoed along the forestry cutline. Tall evergreens and deciduous trees with the first buds of spring lined the makeshift gun range. Massive towers held sagging transmission lines. Shafts of wild grass, sapped of life by the fall frost, formed a golden carpet. Marvin Pittman and Logan Hirsch stood side by side, rifles at their shoulders as they fired at targets a hundred yards away. They reloaded and shot again. When they emptied their magazines, they set the guns down and jogged to the targets. Pittman, at thirty-five, was seven years older than Hirsch, but he ran like he was fifty. Where Pittman had a stocky build, Hirsch was slim, on the verge of scrawny. Pittman stopped at the targets, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Finally, he stood, wiped his hand across his sweating forehead and balding scalp, and stared at his target. “Shit.” Hirsch glanced over and laughed. “Looks like you used a shotgun, not a rifle.” “Jeez,” Pittman said. “You put twenty shots in the chest from a hundred yards. Where did you learn to shoot like this?” “I grew up in Grande Prairie. From about the time I was six, I went hunting with my dad and uncles. We hunted everything—deer, elk, moose. Bear, sometimes. Dad said I was a natural shooter.” “I’d say so. Put up some new targets and let’s go again.” An hour later they sat on some tree stumps and cleaned the guns. Pittman wandered over to his truck and came back with a cooler. He pulled out two beers, handed one to Hirsch, and they guzzled. “That hit the spot,” Hirsch said. “You plan for everything.” “I try,” Pittman said. “I needed that.” “No, shit.” Hirsch stretched his long legs and yawned. “Shooting is cleansing, peaceful.” Pittman closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face. “I love fall. I could sit here all day.” “A lot better than employment training. If I have to attend another week, I might blow my brains out.” Hirsch mimicked the instructor in a high-pitched voice, saying, “Now that you know what to put in a résumé, it’s time to put that into practice. Use the notebook to create your résumé. Just put up a hand if you need my help.” Hirsch drained his beer and threw the bottle into the trees. “Treating us like stupid kids.” “Have another beer, or three. You’ll feel better.” “It will take more than beer,” Hirsch said. “The economy is in the shitter and my life is worse than that.” Read more of Chapter 1 here
Note: 13 Days of Terror – Coulter #4 – Released November 10, 2020.