Abnormal Statistics by Max Booth III

Author:Max Booth III [Booth III, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
Publisher: Apocalypse Party
Published: 2023-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

IN THE ATTIC OF THE UNIVERSE

Stuart held the pistol up to his two-year-old son’s skull and closed his eyes. All he had to do was squeeze his finger and everything would be fixed. There would no longer be any reason to worry about Evan, and no longer a reason to not turn the gun on himself and end this horrible fucking excuse of a life once and for all.

Just pull the trigger, and the complications of life would forever cease.

But goddammit, why did the baby have to look so peaceful sleeping like that? Maybe if he looked a little more evil, like one of those goddamn ghouls outside, Stuart would have an easier time doing what needed to be done.

Only that wasn’t true at all, because it sure as hell didn’t help with Caren. He couldn’t end her misery. And now he was bitten and soon he would turn and rip his son’s throat out while the poor little baby cried himself to death. It didn’t have to be that way, of course. He could prevent the worst of it. Put a bullet through his own skull before it managed to turn against him.

But if he did that, then there would be no one around to care for Evan—which meant Evan had to be taken out first.

Just the thought alone was enough to send Stuart over the edge. The pistol shook in his hand. Tears streamed down his face and his lips quivered and yet the baby didn’t so much as fidget in his crib.

He’s just a baby for fuck’s sake. Why? Why does it have to be this way?

Stuart sighed, blinking the sweat and tears away, and sheathed the pistol back in the leather holster he had scavenged from the police department. Away from the crib, he banged his head against the wall. It wasn’t an accident. He kept doing it, and doing it, and doing it.

He invited the pain and the pain accepted.

Most of the walls were covered in egg cartons he’d nailed there; an attempt to soundproof the room from Evan’s cries. If enough of those things heard his wailing, then . . . well, it didn’t really matter anymore, now did it? He was one of those things—or at least he would be relatively soon. He didn’t think the egg cartons worked, anyway.

His forearm was wrapped in white gauze, but you couldn’t tell the color now, so much blood had soaked through. One stupid mistake, that’s all it had taken. One stupid mistake and their lives were ruined.

Stuart flexed his arm and the red in the gauze grew darker.

“Fuck,” he said.

He looked back over to the crib, his son sleeping inside, and felt the gun at his hip. He shook his head.

“I can’t do this.”

Like you have a choice.

“No,” he said, voice trembling. His eyes retired to the floor, vision blurred. “I can’t.”

Stuart headed over to the trapdoor and lowered the dropdown staircase. Evan would be waking up from his nap any time now. He didn’t want to be around when he did.

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