Read Online This Is the End by Eric Pollarine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eric Pollarine
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fucking will. Got it?” Then he turns around and looks back at the woman and asks, “Right, Kel?”
The woman is staring at me like she just put two and five together and now it’s her turn to get fucked. She’s probably thinking about how much shit she’s going to be in or, more likely, how much money she can get out of me. I try to smile at her again but she’s fumbling with her holster, then she’s pointing her gun at my head.
“You’re a monster; you’re the fucking monster that did this,” she says in a whisper, eyes wide.
Great, just my luck, anti-technology freaks. My building has been overrun by anti-tech heads.
I look up at her and ask, “What?”
Her hand is shaking; her finger is resting on the side of the trigger. She’s pushing the gun into my forehead—leaving a mark, a small circle less than the size of a dime is being slowly drilled into the middle of my head and I’m about to die for the second time in my life. Skinny looks surprised; he’s trying to ask her questions and I close my eyes, waiting for the sound, waiting for the heat of the bullet.
“Kel, what the fuck are you doing?” asks Skinny. I can hear the shock in his voice. Something’s not right. I open my eyes and Skinny is looking at her like she’s completely lost it, like he’s the sane one. She’s the one I have to talk to, try and reason with. Jesus, I got cancer, froze myself, got screwed over by my lawyer and ex-wife who then left me for dead and now I have to deal with this.
“He’s the one that did this,” she says back to him. Her eyes are rimming with shock and tears.
Skinny looks confused; he glances at me then back out the window and then, as if an actual light bulb went off in his head, he finally figures out what she’s trying to tell him. He lunges at me; his eyes are filled with rage.
She screams his name as we tumble backwards onto the floor. I think she says “Scott”—I’m not sure. Skinny is mashing his fist into my head and his hands feel like cinder blocks.
“I’m gonna smash your fucking brains in, asshole,” he’s yelling into my face—hot, dirty breath. I still have no idea what it is that they’re talking about. I try to tell them but every time I open my mouth, another of his fists hits me. She moves in to pull him off me and I don’t know if I’m thankful or not. I can’t tell anymore.
“Scott, stop,” she says pulling him off of me. Trails of spit and blood follow his hands; he breaks free and comes back at me.
“Scott, Goddamnit, that’s an order,” she yells and he stops as if he’s on autopilot. Then he stands up straight and faces her.
“You’re not in charge anymore, Kel. Remember? No more orders. That’s what we said when we came in here.”
She bites her lip and looks like a child and says, “I know, Scott, but if it is really him then he doesn’t know.”
Skinny looks confused again. “How can he not know?” he asks.
She looks over at me like she’s checking my face, making sure I’m telling the truth, then looks back to him. “Because he froze himself before everything happened.”
Skinny doesn’t understand and neither do I, but I’m glad he’s not trying to ram his fist into my skull through my face. She was just going to blow my head off, now she’s saving me from having my head smashed in. I don’t get it. Now my right eye feels swollen; I think he broke my nose.
“You were just gonna blow his head off,” he says back to her.
She shakes her head. “No. I lost my cool. It’s just…I was…I lost my cool,” she says through thickening tears.
I try to look around but my eyelids feel too heavy. Skinny moves in to hug her; she wipes away the tears from her eyes. They move apart but there’s a connection here that isn’t just on the surface—have to remember that.
“What? What did I do?” I ask. My voice sounds frail and distant. They turn to me and pull me back up and then push my chair towards the windows, slamming me into
The woman is staring at me like she just put two and five together and now it’s her turn to get fucked. She’s probably thinking about how much shit she’s going to be in or, more likely, how much money she can get out of me. I try to smile at her again but she’s fumbling with her holster, then she’s pointing her gun at my head.
“You’re a monster; you’re the fucking monster that did this,” she says in a whisper, eyes wide.
Great, just my luck, anti-technology freaks. My building has been overrun by anti-tech heads.
I look up at her and ask, “What?”
Her hand is shaking; her finger is resting on the side of the trigger. She’s pushing the gun into my forehead—leaving a mark, a small circle less than the size of a dime is being slowly drilled into the middle of my head and I’m about to die for the second time in my life. Skinny looks surprised; he’s trying to ask her questions and I close my eyes, waiting for the sound, waiting for the heat of the bullet.
“Kel, what the fuck are you doing?” asks Skinny. I can hear the shock in his voice. Something’s not right. I open my eyes and Skinny is looking at her like she’s completely lost it, like he’s the sane one. She’s the one I have to talk to, try and reason with. Jesus, I got cancer, froze myself, got screwed over by my lawyer and ex-wife who then left me for dead and now I have to deal with this.
“He’s the one that did this,” she says back to him. Her eyes are rimming with shock and tears.
Skinny looks confused; he glances at me then back out the window and then, as if an actual light bulb went off in his head, he finally figures out what she’s trying to tell him. He lunges at me; his eyes are filled with rage.
She screams his name as we tumble backwards onto the floor. I think she says “Scott”—I’m not sure. Skinny is mashing his fist into my head and his hands feel like cinder blocks.
“I’m gonna smash your fucking brains in, asshole,” he’s yelling into my face—hot, dirty breath. I still have no idea what it is that they’re talking about. I try to tell them but every time I open my mouth, another of his fists hits me. She moves in to pull him off me and I don’t know if I’m thankful or not. I can’t tell anymore.
“Scott, stop,” she says pulling him off of me. Trails of spit and blood follow his hands; he breaks free and comes back at me.
“Scott, Goddamnit, that’s an order,” she yells and he stops as if he’s on autopilot. Then he stands up straight and faces her.
“You’re not in charge anymore, Kel. Remember? No more orders. That’s what we said when we came in here.”
She bites her lip and looks like a child and says, “I know, Scott, but if it is really him then he doesn’t know.”
Skinny looks confused again. “How can he not know?” he asks.
She looks over at me like she’s checking my face, making sure I’m telling the truth, then looks back to him. “Because he froze himself before everything happened.”
Skinny doesn’t understand and neither do I, but I’m glad he’s not trying to ram his fist into my skull through my face. She was just going to blow my head off, now she’s saving me from having my head smashed in. I don’t get it. Now my right eye feels swollen; I think he broke my nose.
“You were just gonna blow his head off,” he says back to her.
She shakes her head. “No. I lost my cool. It’s just…I was…I lost my cool,” she says through thickening tears.
I try to look around but my eyelids feel too heavy. Skinny moves in to hug her; she wipes away the tears from her eyes. They move apart but there’s a connection here that isn’t just on the surface—have to remember that.
“What? What did I do?” I ask. My voice sounds frail and distant. They turn to me and pull me back up and then push my chair towards the windows, slamming me into
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