The Sacrifice by Sandy J Hartwick

Author:Sandy J Hartwick [Hartwick, Sandy J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Weasel came to. This time it took him long minutes to put everything together. Finally, he remembered the last thing he had seen before he passed out. It was so dark in this shaft, but he guessed it was still daytime, because it was so hot and he could see a little bit. Mercifully, his hand was still behind his back reaching for his gun. Perhaps if he took this in baby steps, instead of trying to make it one movement, he would have some success. He grabbed hold of the butt of the gun with his thumb and forefinger. His vision turned red and faded a moment with the pain. He paused and waited for his senses to stabilize. Lifting the weight of the gun out of the back of his pants and hoisting it over his hip were going to be the most difficult exercises. He had never known such pain, and he was not a stranger to pain. The closest he could compare it to was having your finger smashed in a car door, only this pain didn’t stop or ebb. It was constant, fresh and new, and it radiated from most of his left side. He held his breath and made a mighty effort and pulled. He told his brain to pass out if it wanted, but to hold on to the gun no matter what. He screamed at a new and deeper wave of pain that pulled him down. He felt the whole mine shaft waver, but the gun was free and its weight dragged down hard on his hand, wracking his shoulder joint. Pushing himself back and concentrating, he summoned his strength and hoisted his gun and arm to the top of his side and rested it on his hip. His breathing was labored like he had just run some marathon, and he let himself rest, a smile across his face. Finally, he had control over one miserable part of his whole fucking sad situation. When he was ready, he could eat a bullet. He didn’t think it would be long now. Seeing that giant cartoon rat had scared him. It was worse than seeing a rattler or black scorpion coming across the floor for him, because those things were based in reality. Seeing a giant cartoon rat, a scary rat, that meant madness, and a mad man might do anything. He didn’t want to go Donner party and decide that old Steve didn’t look or smell too bad and that, in fact, he was a lot like Thanksgiving dinner with extra cranberry sauce.

Weasel gagged at that thought and beads of sweat broke out across his body. He was afraid his descent into madness was well underway, but what was that saying? “Only crazy people think they are not crazy.” So did it follow that only sane people questioned their sanity? He didn’t know. But at least he had the gun, loaded and ready. He at least had that shred of control. He

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