Notes: For primeval100: challenge 354: Flu season.
Becker jumped as a pink-feather tipped dart whizzed by, barely missing his foot, and embedded itself in the floor.
Beside him, Connor cringed, looking guilty.
“Sorry! Did I hit you?”
Becker sighed. “No, you missed,” he said, pointing to the dart, still stuck in the floor.
Connor sneezed again, his index finger involuntarily tightening on the tranquiliser gun’s trigger. Luckily, he hadn’t had time to load a new dart into it this time. Becker snatched it off him, passing him a tissue instead.
“For goodness’ sake! Keep your finger off the trigger until you want to fire it.”