And everybody knew not to do anything outside, and not to make too much noise if they did anything inside. Especially after those first few months, when several of Connor’s neighbours had suddenly “moved away” in the middle of the night. As far as he knew, the houses on either side of him were still empty, except for the homeless crowd who dropped in occasionally in their desperate dance to stay one step ahead of the authorities.
Now he could hear voices coming from the gate. Bit pointless, really. Couldn’t they see he’d closed all the doors and windows? Now he drew the curtains too, smiling and waving at the small gathering of drones. What was the collective noun for government drones, buzzing together like insects? A buggery?
Now the clock was ticking. The hazmat brigade wasn’t used to being ignored. Especially when their buggery (yes, he liked that word) could see that he was definitely home.
Back to the study. Grab the book. Get the nail. Spare bedroom. Kick the bed. Open the tile. Grab EVERYTHING. Toss it on the bed. Open the cupboard. Find his favourite leather jacket, the one with the extra pockets.
Bang.
He didn’t have to look. That was the steel gate, still holding but no longer defiantly impregnable. Another few bangs and they’d be inside.
He wouldn’t be.
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Read Big Day Out in weekly installments on FaceBook or WordPress. Receive notifications via Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, GoodReads, or Amazon, where you’ll find the whole mad mercenary romp through the dystopian nightmare that Covid-19 might have become. Might still become, if we don’t keep our self-appointed leaders on a very short leash.
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If you have a book you’d like to publish, contact me to claim your 15 minutes of bestselling fame at No.1 on Amazon. Find all my details at BurningBookLinks
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Remember to check out the Beyond The Vale Bookshop, open from 1 October in the Edenglen Shopping Centre, Edenvale. You can find my books there, along with a huge selection of other local authors. Beer can be found nearby. Obviously.
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Cheers.
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