“Remind me. Are we now the good guys or the bad guys? Are we on our way to overthrow the government, or is today the day we unleash a mutated strain of virus on innocent women and children?”
“Does it matter? You’re a hired gun. People used to offer you cash. Now I’m offering your life. But it’s not open-ended. We need an answer now.”
Connor tried to think. This was no longer black and white. Hell, he’d lost track of who was who years ago. Sometimes he felt as if he’d died during the initial years of lockdown, and was now burning in eternal damnation for his sins. Nothing around but death and misery and violence. Gertie had been a potential ray of sunshine in the darkness of his cursed existence. But even that had gone pear-shaped.
Or had it?
Debbie raised her gun, pointing it straight at his head. “Time’s up. There goes your inspirational future.”
Connor weighed his options as he stared down the barrel of the gun. They were few. It boiled down to redecorating the back wall of the cell with his brains, or helping whoever these people were. Was it an animal survival instinct? His opportunity to do good and set his country free of tyranny? Or the opposite, cleanse it of everyone? Partly. Although these people had denied him the chance to kill Noecker, which meant the longer he stayed alive, the more chance he would have to kill them.
“Alright then, Debs, I’m in. Now get your top off.”
He braced himself for the slap, which came immediately.
Debbie looked at the man to Connor’s right and nodded. Connor felt the needle puncture the skin of his upper arm, then he blacked out.
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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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