The Last Five Days: Day One: Luther's Diner: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Read Online Free Page B

He had the Colt aimed at Winston.
    "Don't shoot. I'm not sick."
    A bullet ricocheted next to Winston's head. He pulled Byrd's body onto him as a shield. Another shot. Byrd shook violently as the bullet sliced through her, grazing Winston's arm. With everything he could muster, Winston flung his arms, sending Byrd's body at the shooter. Another bullet struck Byrd in chest. Winston scrambled to his feet to run to the door. A bullet hit the metal frame, causing him to fall back. He rolled on his shoulder. Another bullet hit the booth above his head. Winston dropped to his stomach and slid under the table. One. He did math in his head. Harry. Vera. Byrd. He's shot at me five times. That makes eight. There's one bullet left. It only took one.
    The dirty boots inched closer to Winston. Think. Think. Winston's shoulder hit the leg of the table. It moved. The boots stopped. Winston saw dirty knees. The man was coming under the booth. Winston closed his eyes and kicked the underside of the table. It flew upwards into the man. Another gunshot. He's empty.
    Winston lunged forward, catching the man in the side. They tumbled to the center of the diner. Winston was first to his feet.
    "Randy."
    Randy Jacobs became Winston's first friend when his family moved to Black Dog thirty-five years ago. They remained best friends. Randy was Winston's best man at his wedding and now he was trying to kill him.
    "It's me. Winston. I'm not sick, Randy."
    Randy ignored Winston and rubbed his nose, smearing blood over his face. There was no doubt the force of the table had broken Randy's nose. It sat underneath his right eye.
    "I'm sorry about your nose. You were trying to kill me."
    Randy didn't speak. He aimed the Colt at Winston, who started second guessing his math. If he was off by one bullet, it was over. Winston closed his eyes. Randy pulled the trigger. Nothing. He looked at the gun, aimed it at Winston. and pulled the trigger.
    "No bullets, Randy."
    Randy dropped the gun, lowered his shoulder, and ran at Winston. He made contact with Winston's chest, lifting him a few feet in the air. Randy slammed Winston to the floor. Air escaped Winston's lungs, leaving little reserve when Randy wrapped his fingers around his throat. Randy's strength was unmatchable, but Winston's life depended on trying. He grabbed Randy's wrists, but he couldn't pry them from his neck. Winston tightened his grip. Randy had no pulse. His skin was almost hot to the touch. Randy was dead. Dead and yet he still knew how to use a gun. There was no freeing Winston from Randy's grasp. He had to find vulnerability. Winston felt his eyes bulging. He fought against losing consciousness. Winston didn't have long. He looked into Randy's eyes. A thin, milky coat covered his pupils. Randy blinked rapidly. The eyes.

    W inston let go of Randy's wrists and clawed at his face. Winston pressed his thumbs into Randy's eyes. The grip on his throat tightened. Winston pushed his thumbs deeper, creating a suction sound. Randy's fingers opened, allowing Winston to breathe. He gasped and lurched up, sinking his thumbs farther into his best friend's eye sockets. Randy became dead weight. Winston shifted his hips and tossed Randy off him. Winston sat up and wiped his thumbs on Randy's jeans before massaging his own throat. When his breathing regulated, Winston grabbed a stool, pulled himself up, and took a seat at the bar.
    He eyed Vera below him. "I'll have the cheeseburger special." Winston laughed. Lines were blurred. He didn't know if the laugh and poor joke were out of relief or out of insanity. Winston never figured he would have to gouge his best friend's eyes out to survive. He doubted his decision. Maybe he should have let Randy kill him. This would all be over. The alarm on his watch chirped. Noon. Time to call Marianna. Winston set the alarm to remember to call Marianna every day at lunch. It wasn't like he would forget. The alarm was an insurance policy. Marianna was a high school biology