Eeny Meeny

76

There was no backing out now. The deal had been struck. Like it or not, it was time to follow through.

When Mickery had opened her left hand, knowing full well it was empty, Sandy had collapsed to the ground moaning. Mickery had watched, her emotions in riot. Part exhilaration, part horror, but overall… relief. She would live.

Shortly afterwards Sandy started to beg. He said he hadn’t been serious, that it was crazy, that they had to stick together, they shouldn’t let her win.

‘What would you have done if you’d won? Would you have spared me?’ was Mickery’s retort. Sandy couldn’t answer – which spoke volumes. He would have pulled the trigger and saved himself. He was a selfish little shit at heart.

‘Please, Hannah. I have a wife. I have two daughters. You know them, you’ve met them. Please don’t do this to them.’

‘We don’t have a choice, Sandy.’

‘Course we do. We always have a choice.’

‘To starve to death? Is that what you want?’

‘Maybe we can get out. Force the door…’

‘For the love of God, Sandy, don’t make this worse than it already is. There is no way out. There is no escape. This is it. There is no other way.’

At which point, he’d started to blub. But Mickery felt no pity now. If Sandy had won, she would have been dead by now, no doubt about it. Suddenly hatred rose up inside her – how dare he beg for mercy that he wouldn’t have rendered – and as he clawed at her, she pushed him sharply away. He tripped and fell, landing heavily on the dirty metal floor.

‘I’m begging you, Hannah, please don’t do this…’

But Mickery had already picked up the gun. She had never fired one before, never thought of hurting anyone, but she was cool and collected now as she prepared to execute someone she had once called a friend.

‘I’m so sorry, Sandy.’

And with that she pulled the trigger.

Click.

An empty chamber. Shit. Sandy, who moments earlier had thrown his arms wildly in front of himself in a vain effort to shield himself from the coming pain, stopped flailing. Suddenly he was getting to his feet.

Click. Click.

Two more empty chambers – the gun must have got knocked out of sequence at some point. Now Sandy was charging at her.

Click. Click. He barrelled into her knocking the cold gun from her hands. Mickery flew backwards cracking her head on the hard floor. When she looked up, Sandy had the gun in his hand. She expected to see hatred there, but his face was a picture of disbelief.

‘It’s empty. It’s fucking empty.’ He tossed the gun to her. What had he said? Her brain couldn’t keep up with developments. But he was right. The chambers were empty. There had never been a bullet inside.

A hooting to her left made Mickery start. But it was only Sandy rolling on the floor, tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks. He sounded insane. Insanely happy. What a bloody good joke it all was.

Mickery yelled. A blood-curdling, throat-splitting yell. Long, loud and agonizing. All that for nothing. She had tricked them, made them animals, but then denied Mickery her triumph. This wasn’t how the game worked. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. She was meant to live. She wanted to live.

Mickery knelt on the floor, the energy draining from her. She was beaten, broken. Sandy’s hideous mocking laughter rang out like a death knell.