Last Pandemic (Book 1): Escape The Virus by Westfield Ryan

Author:Westfield, Ryan [Westfield, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Pandemic | Survival
Published: 2019-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

12

Mark

It had been less than a day ago when Mark's luck seemed to have run out for good.

Less than twenty-four hours ago he'd been coming out of a bender, miserably hung over, unable to sleep, wondering if he should finally put a bullet in his temple and get it all over with.

His eyes had been bloodshot. His gut had hurt, and his memory of the last two weeks had been incredibly foggy.

Froggy, his roommate and best friend, had been nowhere to be found. Maybe he'd finally packed up and headed back to Australia where he was from, just like he'd been threatening to do for the last decade or so.

When Mark and Froggy had been in their twenties, their antics had been, if not charming, at least understandable and tolerable. Their excess drinking had been written off as a product of their young age. But as the years had passed and their behavior hadn't changed, people had started to distance themselves. Former friends had become acquaintances, and the world seemed to be giving a wide berth to Mark and Froggy.

But Mark and Froggy, unable or unwilling to change their ways, had stuck together. At least they'd had each other. Through all the petty scams they'd tried to pull, through all the DUIs, the arrests for drunk and disorderly, the restraining orders from ex-girlfriends, Mark and Froggy had been there for each other. Through it all. Thick and thin. And most if it had been pretty thick.

Their lives had only gotten harder as the years had passed. With the advent of computers and cell phones, the gift card and phone card scams that they'd run together had become obsolete.

Their money had dried up, and the rent for their crummy little place on the bad side of town had increased. Their original landlord, who'd occasionally let things slide in exchange for a case of beer or some stolen watches, had died, leaving the property to his much stricter and much-less-fun son.

Things had been getting worse for years until that fateful morning of the hangover.

Without Froggy there, Mark had actually gone and gotten the one gun that he hadn't yet pawned, and decided that it was finally time. He'd written an awkward suicide note to Froggy, should he return, that was full of misspellings and sweat stains.

Mark had even tried to go through with it. He'd always fantasized about pushing the muzzle against his temple, but in the end, he'd instead gone with taking the muzzle in his mouth, wrapping his lips around the cold steel.

It had felt good in a strange, horrible way. It had felt good to finally come up with a solution to his problems and to his life.

His life had just been one giant problem. And as he pulled the trigger, he knew that he could rest in peace. He knew that it'd all be over in a fraction of a second.

But nothing had happened.

The gun had been out of ammunition.

And he couldn't find any in the house.

None at all.

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