I thought I’d honed quick reflexes in Moneyland. I thought I was instinctual and flighty as a deer. The quickest to run.
These militia though, they’re quicker.
Adult soldiers, fully grown, 50-somethings with beards and wrinkles and tired eyes snap my arms behind my back and tie me with a metal chain and a padlock, hauling me to my feet and marching me. I can’t see Ötzi. He must have dashed away just as the Father’s Force were descending from the ceiling, quick as a fish.
They drag my toes across the plaza, one goon on each side of me. We pause in the lobby. Daylight burns my eyes.
‘MAMMAAAAAA.’ cries my baby girl from somewhere. It sounds like… like she’s under me? Underground? ‘MAMASTRONG!’
‘I’M GONNA f**k YOU PEOPLE UP!’ I spit at my captors, ‘I WANT MY BABYGIRL NOW.’
NOW‘We’re get
