Jonas had never broken into a house before.
Then again, he'd never fired an entire clip of automatic fire into the face of a building before. But these were desperate times, and Jonas didn't have time to think about firsts or anything. He needed to be quick and quiet, and very efficient.
Being a player is hard...
He struggled through the window, grunting and cursing under his breath as he bumped and banged into the wall. Not a smooth start, but he couldn't let that stop him. For all he knew, Glen was at the front already, readying the trap.
Okay. Can't let him down, no, yeah, no. Anyone in this room?
Glancing around, Jonas breathed a sigh of relief. For the moment, the place was empty. He raised up his Uzi and took a nervous step forward, his heart starting to pound. He thought about Panya. Had she been doing something similar, when she'd bit the bullet? Had she been a player, or was she murdered in cold blood? His only chance of ever knowing was getting out of the game, off the Island.
That means I need to think about Glen. He's the only one I can tru-
His collar crackled noisily. Letting out a yelp Jonas doubled back to the window, as a familiar stammering voice filled the air.
"Um. I should probably let you know, that one of your team mates is in the hotel. Uh, he's wearing a gold bandanna, but he's really on pink team. So just, erm, keep a look out and try not to shoot him, please?"
What? Pink? Did Glen know that as well? He was in no position to find out. He'd have to run blind for now... Jonas' lip began to quiver. Panya was dead, and he was stuck with Glen, and this mystery kid in a Gold Bandanna. Would he play too? Jonas hoped so. He wanted to go home bad, more than anything else.
What am I doing? I shouldn't be here. I can't just kill them, not like on the boat! That was an accident, this is some spec ops bullshit! Does Glen think this is a game or- well- it is a game. But does he think it's a GAME game, or a game game? Gah!
He shook his head. It didn't matter. He had a job to do and he couldn't waste anymore time. Taking a deep breath, Jonas raised his weapon, and began striding across the room.
Walk in, shoot'em in the back, then run like hell. Not hard. Not hard at all. It's... It's kinda clever, for Glen- I mean, if h-
As Jonas reached the doorway, a figure stepped into his path. There wasn't time to react, there wasn't even time to yell. His legs began to sag and his eyes went wide, his brain screaming at him to move. Jonas tried his best to stumble back, as the Hatchet caught him full on, directly in the forehead.
Dying was a strange business. Jonas would have found it oddly fitting, going out this way. He'd killed a kid on the ship completely on instinct, pull the trigger and ask questions later. Whoever his murderer was, they were thinking much the same. Swing the hatchet, then check his bandanna later. Jonas had so many questions. Had Glen's plan worked? Had they seen him, was his death his own fault? Had it been the kid in the Gold bandanna, or someone else? How had Panya died?
Why was this in any way fair? He should have at least gotten a swing in.
But Jonas didn't think about anything. There wasn't any time left anymore. All his worrying and jittering, all his close calls and second chances, none of it mattered one bit as the hatchet sank into his skull.
The world swam away from him, and his body crumpled to the floor, the weapon buried in his skull.
Oh be honest Jonas. You weren't going to win.
You were just meant to sell some DVDs.
Jonas would have thought about everything and more, but he didn't have time. As the hatchet sunk into his skull, he managed one last startled word of protest.
PNK2 - JONAS JEFFRIES - DECEASED