♠ Fun, fun, fun ♠

Inside was dark. Justin reached for a light switch, but Connor stopped him. “No need to tell them more than they already know. Where we going?”

Forced to discard his crossbow, and still favouring his wounded arm, Justin stepped carefully to the centre of the room and felt around a dark mass that took up most of the space. Grunting, he walked around the object, bending down on each side.

“WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE. YOU CAN’T GET AWAY.” A spotlight hit the shop window, forcing Connor’s eyes away from the glare. “GIVE US THE GIRL. THROW OUT YOUR WEAPONS. AND I PROMISE TO MAKE THIS QUICK. THAT’S THE BEST OFFER YOU’RE GOING TO GET, CONNAUGHT.”

Justin was back, reaching for the girl. “Friends of yours, old man?”

Connor handed her over before reloading. “You could say we have history. It ends tonight.”

Justin was lowering Gertie into the vehicle that filled the room. “For all of us, maybe. I can’t use my arm. You’ll have to ride shotgun.”

“Do you have a shotgun?”

“Figure of speech. Get on.”

Connor stepped over, still keeping one eye on the street outside. He could only see shadows, vague shapes, snatches of movement. But he heard the grunted commands. In Noecker’s own words – time was few.

“What is this? A beach buggy? It’s only got two seats.”

Justin winked, almost imperceptible in the glare of the spotlight. “Sit on the back, grab hold of the roll bar, and don’t let go.” He turned the key and the powerful engine kicked into life.

Connor did as he suggested, Justin hit the accelerator, and the beach buggy shot through the shop window, showering the street with shards of glass.

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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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Cheers.