Five Survive

by Holly Jackson

“No axe-murderers in South Carolina,” Simon said. “Only in North Carolina. It’s chainsaws you’ve gotta watch out for. And vampires.”

Maybe that was what Red liked most about him, that he was untainted by knowing.

“It’s four minutes past midnight, and most people are probably in bed. But someone must have heard the gunshots and called the police, right? There were farms and houses not too far back.”

PSA, no one in SC is going to call the law for gunfire in the country, unless it’s on their own land. Just sayin’.

“Yeah, that sniper won’t know what’s hit him when I slowly charge at him with my Gillette razor.”

But he was going to get them killed, those innocent people outside, and he didn’t care, he didn’t care because they weren’t him.

“It’s me,” she said, framing each word carefully, choosing the right ones. “I’m the witness.” She paused. “The protected witness, in the Frank Gotti case.”

Not rock paper scissors, but scissors knife rifle. Scissors lost every time in that game.