There are rules and laws and social contracts that govern our everyday lives,
but there's one that supersedes them all: the law of the jungle.
but there's one that supersedes them all: the law of the jungle.
The Golden Rule by Paul Newman
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“Shit! Give me a hand up!” Mickey was down, both hands clenched his
knee. He tried to straighten his leg and
felt something grind and bite like stripped out gears. He knew there was no way it would hold his
weight. He stretched out for his
Remington to push himself up off the ground, but it was a few feet out of reach.
David walked back from where he
was waiting at the next fence. Mickey
reached up to him. “C’mon man, give me a
hand up. Those things are right behind
us.”
David ignored Mickey’s hand and
grabbed the shotgun instead. He took a look down the way they
had just come; nothing was moving, yet.
He looked down at Mickey and shook his head. "Sorry, Mick. Tough break.”
David reached into his waistband and pulled out his .38 then started
taking cartridges out until there was only one loaded chamber left. He flicked it shut with a flip of the wrist.
“C’mon dammit! Quit jerkin’ around! Give me a hand up!” Mickey's arm shook as he strained to reach
but David didn't move.
“Ya know, I don’t think I’m gonna
do that.”
There was a splintering crash at
the far end of the alley.
“You son of a bitch!”
“Sorry man, but by the time
they’re done with you, I’ll be long gone and out of here. I don’t have to outrun those things, I just
have to outrun you. It's Darwin, ya
know? The first rule is survival.”
David tossed the .38 down to
Mickey. “Here, there’s one left in there
for you. You won't have to feel a thing.” He turned and ran back toward the far end of
the alley.
David's left leg buckled and
dropped him to the asphalt and then he felt the punch, like someone hit the
back of his leg with a baseball bat. The
pain came at the same time as the sound, the booming roar of a gunshot. David grabbed for his knee but it was gone, replaced
by a wet useless lump of meat and shattered bone. David heaved himself over on his back and saw
Mickey on the ground a few yards away. The
.38 was still aimed at him and the barrel was still smoking from his one
bullet.
David reached for the shotgun but
it had slid a few feet away under a dumpster.
Out of reach. “You stupid bastard! You were already dead, now we’re both fucked!”
Mickey lit up a smoke and took one
long, deep drag. “I don’t know anything
about Darwin and survival and all that shit you were talking about but I got my
own rules. One of 'em is that you never
turn your back on a loaded gun. You
broke that rule and now you're learnin' about another one. Paybacks are a bitch, Davey Boy. It's the golden rule: paybacks are a bitch!”
David tried to drag himself over
to the Remington but it was too late; they were here. All time became now and the world condensed
to a single point that was filled with pain.
Each man heard the other die but that didn't make it any easier in the
end.
