Jake dropped behind the bar and landed next to me while the groans of the ghouls grew louder outside the saloon.
“Jesus, Jake, they keep comin’!” I whispered through clenched teeth. “Nuthin’ brings ‘em down!”
“I know, reload yer six.”
“Why? It don’t do no good!”
“Just do it. I have a plan, ok?” Jake took a peek over the bar, dropped back down. “Do you trust me?”
“Sure I do, Jake.” I shoved bullets into my six-shooter. “You got an idea what’ll take ‘em down?”
“Yeah,” Jake smiled. “A dead man’s gun.”
I never heard the shot.
I wanted so bad to do a wild west theme but I couldn’t pull the trigger. I’m also a humor hack.
Loved it. Testosterone kicks ass.
Thanks for writing man.
*chest bump*
Nice!
I love it!
I’m gushing, sorry.
Thanks, Cameron.
Nicely done Eric. Your last line leaves me wondering if the gun is a ghost too
Nice, killer last line, didn’t see that coming.
loved this – laughed unashamedly at the last part.
In Alaska we say “I don’t need to outrun the bear – I just need to outrun you.”
I read the last line. I sit for a minute. And then, “oh no he DIDN’T!”
Nicely done man!
Pingback: The Story Circle: Dumpster Diving, Part 2 | Cameron D. Garriepy