The Last Five Days: The Complete Novel: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller by Paul Seiple Page A
Authors: Paul Seiple
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any way you looked at it, it was murder.
"What about Marianna?"
Marianna's cloudy eye peeking through the crack in the door was the only thing Winston thought of when he heard her name. Cloudy eyes meant dead. Marianna was dead, but Winston couldn't bring himself to admit it.
"She's sick. I'm going to find a cure for her."
Jimbo smiled. "Fight till the end." He looked at his arm. "This really hurts."
"Don't pull the screwdriver out. You may bleed out."
Jimbo laughed and then coughed. More blood. "You say that like it's a bad thing. I'm in pretty bad shape here, buddy."
Winston stood up. "Let's see if we can get you some help. You're not going to try to attack me, are you?"
Standing was a chore for Jimbo. He braced his good arm against the wall. After a few moans and grunts, Jimbo was on his feet. "Do I look like I could attack anyone? I've lost too much blood. Besides, you've got the gun."
Winston eyed the Colt dangling from his right hand. "That may be the case, but you did try to kill me earlier. I didn't try to kill you, so face away from me, and walk out of the shed."
Jimbo chuckled. "You're the boss."
Jimbo turned to leave the shed. Doubt never crossed Winston's mind. He strengthened his grip on the pistol, pointed it at the back of Jimbo's head, and pulled the trigger. Jimbo fell forward, face first onto the ground with his feet still in the doorway of the shed. It was over in an instant, but the ringing in Winston's ears continued. He was getting used to the tinnitus. At first, Winston saw it as penance for breaking the sixth commandment. But, as days went by and the horrors grew worse in Black Dog, Winston doubted a God even existed. Why would he stand by and watch a small town of good people suffer?
The ringing was just another by-product of this new way of life, along with killing. Winston was the new Iceman. He stood over Jimbo and watched blood pool beneath his forehead. Jimbo and Winston weren't good friends. Every once in a while, they chatted over breakfast at Luther's Diner, but it was small talk. When they passed each other, they waved and exchanged pleasantries, but then again, that was the norm for Black Dog. Winston felt no guilt for shooting Jimbo in the back of the head. Some would see it as a cowardly act. Winston saw it as a strength.
"Pointing a gun to someone you know and pulling the trigger takes guts."
The words seeped into Winston's conscience undetected, but after a few moments, they blistered his thoughts. He grabbed Jimbo's ankles, swinging them out of the shed's doorway. Winston froze.
"I don't want to be the Iceman. I want to save people, not kill them. This isn't me. Maybe I'm infected?"
The question clung to Winston, squeezing tighter as every second passed. If Winston was sick, soon he would no longer care about saving Marianna. He had to get to Salk. Winston stepped over Jimbo.
"Shit. The gas can."
Winston went back to the shed and grabbed the only gas can he could find. As he turned to leave, he spotted Marianna's iPod on the floor. The screen was smashed, but that didn't stop John Denver. Winston drowned himself in "Rocky Mountain High" and walked down Baker Street.
* * *
" W as that a gunshot ?" Melanie asked.
"I didn't hear anything," Dean said, stoking the fire. He heard it. He knew it was a gunshot, but he didn't want to alarm Melanie. "I need some water. Want a bottle?"
"I'm fine."
Dean took the opportunity to pass by every window on his way to the kitchen. The shot didn't seem far away, but he saw nothing but a ghost town. He grabbed a bottle of water from a cooler and went back to the living room. Melanie was sitting in front of the fire. The flames lit her blonde hair with a brilliant orange hue. She was beautiful, naïve, and innocent. She didn't deserve this hell.
"Warming up?"
Melanie turned and smiled. "Toasty, and I have you. There's no one I'd rather share the apocalypse with."
"Not even that guy from The Notebook ?"
"Ryan Gosling?" Melanie put
"What about Marianna?"
Marianna's cloudy eye peeking through the crack in the door was the only thing Winston thought of when he heard her name. Cloudy eyes meant dead. Marianna was dead, but Winston couldn't bring himself to admit it.
"She's sick. I'm going to find a cure for her."
Jimbo smiled. "Fight till the end." He looked at his arm. "This really hurts."
"Don't pull the screwdriver out. You may bleed out."
Jimbo laughed and then coughed. More blood. "You say that like it's a bad thing. I'm in pretty bad shape here, buddy."
Winston stood up. "Let's see if we can get you some help. You're not going to try to attack me, are you?"
Standing was a chore for Jimbo. He braced his good arm against the wall. After a few moans and grunts, Jimbo was on his feet. "Do I look like I could attack anyone? I've lost too much blood. Besides, you've got the gun."
Winston eyed the Colt dangling from his right hand. "That may be the case, but you did try to kill me earlier. I didn't try to kill you, so face away from me, and walk out of the shed."
Jimbo chuckled. "You're the boss."
Jimbo turned to leave the shed. Doubt never crossed Winston's mind. He strengthened his grip on the pistol, pointed it at the back of Jimbo's head, and pulled the trigger. Jimbo fell forward, face first onto the ground with his feet still in the doorway of the shed. It was over in an instant, but the ringing in Winston's ears continued. He was getting used to the tinnitus. At first, Winston saw it as penance for breaking the sixth commandment. But, as days went by and the horrors grew worse in Black Dog, Winston doubted a God even existed. Why would he stand by and watch a small town of good people suffer?
The ringing was just another by-product of this new way of life, along with killing. Winston was the new Iceman. He stood over Jimbo and watched blood pool beneath his forehead. Jimbo and Winston weren't good friends. Every once in a while, they chatted over breakfast at Luther's Diner, but it was small talk. When they passed each other, they waved and exchanged pleasantries, but then again, that was the norm for Black Dog. Winston felt no guilt for shooting Jimbo in the back of the head. Some would see it as a cowardly act. Winston saw it as a strength.
"Pointing a gun to someone you know and pulling the trigger takes guts."
The words seeped into Winston's conscience undetected, but after a few moments, they blistered his thoughts. He grabbed Jimbo's ankles, swinging them out of the shed's doorway. Winston froze.
"I don't want to be the Iceman. I want to save people, not kill them. This isn't me. Maybe I'm infected?"
The question clung to Winston, squeezing tighter as every second passed. If Winston was sick, soon he would no longer care about saving Marianna. He had to get to Salk. Winston stepped over Jimbo.
"Shit. The gas can."
Winston went back to the shed and grabbed the only gas can he could find. As he turned to leave, he spotted Marianna's iPod on the floor. The screen was smashed, but that didn't stop John Denver. Winston drowned himself in "Rocky Mountain High" and walked down Baker Street.
* * *
" W as that a gunshot ?" Melanie asked.
"I didn't hear anything," Dean said, stoking the fire. He heard it. He knew it was a gunshot, but he didn't want to alarm Melanie. "I need some water. Want a bottle?"
"I'm fine."
Dean took the opportunity to pass by every window on his way to the kitchen. The shot didn't seem far away, but he saw nothing but a ghost town. He grabbed a bottle of water from a cooler and went back to the living room. Melanie was sitting in front of the fire. The flames lit her blonde hair with a brilliant orange hue. She was beautiful, naïve, and innocent. She didn't deserve this hell.
"Warming up?"
Melanie turned and smiled. "Toasty, and I have you. There's no one I'd rather share the apocalypse with."
"Not even that guy from The Notebook ?"
"Ryan Gosling?" Melanie put
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