Hunger – Part 2

Here is part 2 of my story, “Hunger.” You can read part 1 here.

Hunger

by Robert Wurth

Part 2

I sat on the edge of the bed, lightly sobbing and holding my spare pistol. I felt feverish and there was a burning sensation that had traveled up my bitten arm and into my chest.

The gun felt bigger in my hands than normal and much, much heavier. I knew what I needed to do, but that was so much easier said than done. The irony was that we were always filled with so much bravado about it all. Everyone says, “I ain’t going out like that, man. If I get infected, I’ll punch my own ticket!” But you know what? In the two years since all of this started, I’ve never seen anyone muster up the guts to do it themselves.

I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to.

There was no such thing as a cure. There was no such thing as hope. Sitting on the bed, holding my only salvation in the entire world in my hand, I felt helpless.

I could already feel the burning moving down into my legs and up to my neck.

Jesus! Two years! I had made it two years!

We had been steadily moving across the country and thought we had finally worked out a good system. It had been six months since we lost anyone and we figured that in another couple of months we’d be far enough up into Alaska that we could use the cold and altitude to keep them away.

Tammy had even begun to talk about a family and I was almost on board with the idea.

Funny how much things have changed and so quickly. Before all of this, I had a wife and a baby girl. We had dated for four years before getting married, and even then weren’t sure we wanted kids until it happened. If Jen had told me she wanted a baby three months into our relationship, I’d have left skid marks out the door.

Now? Three months together felt like years, and when Tammy brought it up my only concern was to tell her we should wait until Alaska.

It was all so close. So fucking close.

The gun taunted me. It started shaking excitedly, like it was coming to life and was going to fly into the air and shoot me itself. Then I realized it was really my hand that was shaking.

My thoughts were getting fuzzy and scrambled. If I turned my head quickly, the world struggled to catch up, not unlike the buzz of a few too many drinks.

I turned the barrel of the pistol to face me. The opening was like a black hole, offering to swallow me up and take me to freedom. I watched the black hole grow bigger and bigger as my hand brought the gun closer to my head.

I wondered if it would hurt.

It couldn’t possibly hurt more than the burning inside of me.

I thought I could see Tammy’s face waiting for me deep down inside that black hole. It wasn’t fair. I loved her so much. If I was being brutally honest, I still barely knew her. I didn’t even know her middle name for fuck’s sake. But I loved her. That much I knew. I wish I had known her before, when the world was real. Before it was a nightmare.

My finger slid onto the trigger like it had done a thousand times before. But this wasn’t like before. My senses felt strangely heightened. I imagined I could feel every peak and valley of the trigger’s textured steel. My thumb pulled the hammer back and the trigger moved slightly in response. All it required now was the slightest feather touch. Just a gentle squeeze, not even enough pressure to whiten my fingernail, and that black hole would explode and suck me inside forever.

The gun started to shake again. It wasn’t just my hand this time, but my whole body was trembling. The pain was getting worse. It seemed like I was suddenly in a tunnel and I squeezed my eyes shut several times to try to clear my vision. It didn’t help. There was a terrible ringing in my ears, getting louder every second.

I felt the gun slip from my hands. It seemed like the world was in slow motion and I watched my last hope for salvation tumble in the air as it fell further and further from me. “No!” I cried, but my voice sounded distant and drowned out by the ringing. I’m not even certain if I actually said it or just thought it.

The gun hit the hard wood floor and I had a fleeting hope that it would discharge anyway and manage to complete its mission. It merely skittered across the room and came to rest by the dresser.

I tried to reach for it, but my arm wouldn’t work the way I wanted it to. I felt like screaming, but I couldn’t breathe. I leaned forward. My balance faltered and I started to fall off the bed. With my arms no longer working, I couldn’t break the fall. I did manage to turn my head at the last instant and my left cheek cracked hard onto the floor. I knew it should have hurt like hell, but agony of the burning inside of me overruled any outside pain.

I opened my eyes and saw the black hole staring back at me. The gun was mere inches from my face, but it might as well have been a thousand miles. I couldn’t reach it. Maybe I no longer needed to. My vision was darkening. I didn’t need to go to the black hole. It was coming for me.

Everything went black.

To be continued…