Quote from the book:
"No," said George. "No Lennie. I ain't mad. I never been mad an' I ain't now. That's the thing I want ya to know."
The voices came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices.
Lennie begged, "Le's do it now. Le's get that place now."
"Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta."
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie's head.
Continuing….
George's hand was shaking. The tip of the gun kept getting off center. He repositioned, he rethought. Lennie was going on about the rabbits, the color of the sky, and the wind in the trees. George thought. He felt the slippery surface of the handle as his fingers fidgeted on the trigger. He felt Curley's eyes on his back as he tried to gather the guts to pull it.
"When we gonna get it George?" Lennie said still looking off in the distance.
"Now," George said blinking. His voice was raspy and his eyes stern as he thought about the number of bullets he had in the gun. He coughed to hide the sound that was released from the gun as it clicked. Three shells, three lousy shells was all that he had. But it was enough to escape.
"You promise to let me tend the rabbits George?"
"I promise Lennie," George said. Slim and Curley's eyes from behind him felt like that of a crowd. Watching his every move and hearing his every breath. Curley's fury could be felt from the brush.
"You picturing it?" George asked.
"Yup George, I see it." Lennie said excitedly.
"Good,"
The gun wasn't cold in his hands anymore, it wasn't even trembling. He knew what had to be done now, to save his friend, and to save his own skin.
"Lennie, I don't want you to be scared,"
"I ain't scared George," Lennie said. "We're gonna get that shack ain't we? And all those rabbits,"
"Tons of em," George agreed.
"Why should I be scared George?" Lennie said, his thick neck itching to turn around.
"No Lennie," George scolded. "I thought you were still picturing it? See them fields? See the apple trees?"
"Sure I do George," Lennie exclaimed. "We won't be bucking anymore barley,"
"Nope,"
"We'll have chickens and cows and maybe a horse!"
"Maybe,"
"But we'll have rabbits right George?"
"Lennie, they'll be so many rabbits you won't know what to do with em,"
Lennie boomed with laughter. George had almost completely forgotten he was holding a gun in his hand. Suddenly it quivered.
"George?"
"Yeah Lennie?"
"You're not really mad?"
"Course I ain't, I told you that before you deaf bastard."
Lennie recoiled again and George felt shudders in his spine. If Lennie whirled around even a little, the barrel of a gun would be in his tiny little eyes.
George's knees were in the dirt. If he had enough time to gather himself up and make his way over to the brush, Curley and Slim wouldn't have time to react. He would shoot them dead and he and Lennie would be off. Maybe head on back to Weed.
"Lennie," George whispered. It was almost mute.
"Yeah George?"
"You be still,"
"I'll be as still as a statue," Lennie replied.
George's heart thundered in his chest. Every small movement he feared would be his last if Curley were to turn on him. For a moment, he even considered Curley had heard his thoughts.
George knelt low to the ground and backed up, as though he was scooting backwards to get a clearer shot, far away from the splatter of blood. He only had three lousy shells. Three chances to hit or miss and he had to hit.
He remembered where Curley and Slim sat, in the thickest patch of grass and weeds he'd ever seen. There was a giant oak shadowing them so even in the dimming light they couldn't be seen. Before he leapt out at them he had to be willing to sacrifice himself in case they got to him first.
George's hand was tight on the gun, as though if he held it tighter he had a better aim. Curley and Slim weren't making a sound like they were supposed to and George circled. The grass was hushed under his boots. Suddenly there were two faces in the pasture; George was staring at them with all the fury in his eyes.
"What the-,"
Slim's voice was silenced as two of the shells echoed in the distance. They rolled out into the hills and drifted away. Curley and Slim slumped over into the nest of weeds and lay still.
By that time Lennie was already on his feet, hovering behind George.
"You done a bad thing George," He said.
"Oh shut it," George hissed. "Come on, let's get out of here."