I could’ve sworn that it was 5pm just ten minutes ago. Apparently my phone says otherwise, plus the really quiet and empty office. If anyone else here worked 8 hours overtime, I’d be forced to give them double and a half or something. Thankfully nobody monitors my hours. I can’t afford to give myself more than minimum wage for my set hours. The head of HR would have a fit if she knew what time I’m leaving tonight, er, this morning. If I get home quickly enough for a power nap then maybe she won’t notice.

At least I’m smart enough not to drive when this tired. Plus my car has been in repair since that city-wide protest turned riot six days ago. It’s not that long of a walk to my apartment anyway, like twenty minutes tops. The breeze is refreshing after today’s heat. I could get used to this. Maybe I’ll walk more. The street’s so empty, I could run the rest of the way and nobody would care. I yawn. Maybe I’ll run another time. Yeah, that sounds go-.

“Don’t move.”

Something presses against the back of my neck. It’s cool like metal, and sharp: a knife.

“I don’t carry cash.”

They scoff. “This isn’t a robbery.” Before I can ask what it is, they shove me towards the alley they probably came from. “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Something tells me they’re not nice people. But I’m not going to say that aloud.

“Am I going to die?” I ask, stifling a yawn.

“Depends. Are you going to make this difficult?” they retort.

“No.”

“Then you’ll live to ask stupid questions another day.” They spin me around to face them, knife gliding around my neck and much more threatening up close. I don’t recognise them, but they’re remarkably well-kept for a gun, or knife, for hire. Orange hair perfectly kept in a high pony tail and all. “Should be pretty obvious, but if you scream I’m going to have to stab you a little, maybe even knock you out. And that’s just messy. So do us both a favour and keep silent, do what I say, and most of all, stop looking like your two seconds from passing out.”

“Stop!”

Pony Tail sighs and glares at the person striding into the alley. I light up at the sight of a rescue, until they pull out a revolver that’s definitely not police issued. Is everyone here some sort of gangster? I must have fallen asleep at my desk and am dreaming up this whole thing.

The new arrival, Revolver Guy, chuckles to himself. “Were you really stupid enough to go after her with a knife? What kind of mercs are your little network hiring these days?”

Pony Tail shoves me against a wall and tosses their knife with a casual precision. It lodges in Revolver Guy’s shoulder. He drops his gun with a yell. Pony Tail draws another knife and gives me a clear look ‘do not move’. I melt into the wall a little. They focus on Revolver Guy with a kind of animalistic glare, like the two are fighting over prey rather than trying to kidnap someone.

“Don’t pick up the gun,” Pony Tail says tiredly.

Revolver Guy shrugs. “Worth the try. So what next? We going to have a showdown or something?”

“I could kill you,” Pony Tail suggests, gripping his knife as if to throw it.

“You sure your people won’t get mad over the side of murder with your kidnapping?”

“We don’t have stupid ass mission criteria like you lot.” Pony Tail smirks. “If that’s what you mean, of course.”

Revolver Guy takes a step back, but keeps his patronising tone. “Looks like the network is hiring more ‘loose cannons’ now. Good for them; it’s healthy to try new things after a decade of two of ‘tradition’.”

“Have I gotten in the middle of some sort of gang war?” I ask, half-asleep.

The two of them explode into rage. Pony Tail slams his knife against my throat. Revolver Guy recovers his revolver and aims it at my head, instead of you know, the person threatening to kill him twenty seconds ago. At least now I know that I’m not dreaming. You’re not meant to feel pain, right? Or blood dripping down your neck. Pretty sure it says that explicitly in the dreaming rule book. If I was actually awake and not running on fumes then I’d probably be more scared. I just can’t manage the adrenaline right now.

My slow blinking and yawn are enough to convince Pony Tail that I’m not a threat and they flicks their attention back to Revolver Guy. “I invoke first come, first served. Your organisation should at least recognise that.”

He pauses, as if listening to orders, then smiles slowly. “Boss says ransoming you both’ll be even better.”

Everything slows down, that or my brain is already asleep. Pony Tail throws their knife. At the same time Revolver Guy shoots. The bullet hits first, lodging in Pony Tail’s thigh. They hit the concrete with a thud as the knife embeds itself in Revolver Guy’s left eye. I grimace. He falls into a heap. I’m pretty sure he’s dead. And Pony Tail looks like they’re about to pass out.

I run. Pony Tail’s yelling and threats make me run faster.

It can’t be far to the closest Police Station. Surely they heard the gunshot. It’s not like they’re common in Brisbane. Ooh, there are some nice officers. They seem to recognise me too. Goodio. I think I’m going to collapse now. Ah yes, it’s definitely time to sleep. I think that policeman is trying to keep me awake. He’s going on about what happened. I half-heartedly point towards the alley and promptly fall asleep. Nighty night.