Flipped
By Bec Zugor
Heads: “That’s it, then. From now on, I’ll make decisions based solely upon the toss of a coin.” Kel kissed his antique 2015 fiver. “You, my friend, will organise my life. Stuff the Corporation and its rules. My life’s been boring for too long; spontaneity is the answer. Now, do I or don’t I?”
Tails: “A fun decision, my silver sage.” Kel filled all the boxes on the Corporation’s Hourly Analysis of Activities/Monday e-form with “NOYB.” Too right. How he spent his days was nobody’s business but his.
Heads: “Spot on. I’d rather have nutriberry jam than SimFish paste anyway.” He ate his breakfast in silence, and raised a glass of soya milk to his wife’s holoshrine. Should he worry?
Tails: Yes. He started to worry; the Corporation could do to him what it did to her. What next? He flipped his fiver.
Heads: “Damn. I wanted tails again.” Tails would’ve meant hiding in his friend Marty’s bunker until he could get an eye transplant and a new ID chip. Heads meant heading for the hills and hoping for a miracle escape from the Enforcers. He gathered some essentials and made his way to the roof of the 80-storey block. The bus arrived. He needed somewhere on the outskirts of the city. N or T?
Tails: “Sector N,” Kel said, waving his hand at the small screen inside the door. Good, they hadn’t stopped his credits yet. The bus was full, so he stood near the door. A blue-skinned Torlanite glared at him, all the while plaiting the tendrils sprouting from her eyebrows. Should he risk a smile? They made fantastic lovers, he’d heard – not that he had time to do anything about it now – and apparently they liked humans.
Tails: Apparently not, and now the whole busload was watching him. Instead, he smiled at the Nuarin standing next to him. He needed to appear casual. “Crowded today, huh?”
“What’s with the coin?” The Nuarin whipped out a tentacle and grabbed the fiver from Kel’s hand.
“It’s a better way of making decisions. You should do the same.” Kel raised his voice, forgetting that he was supposed to be keeping a low profile. “For too long, the Corporation has…” He stopped, open-mouthed, as the Nuarin snapped his precious coin in half with his pincers. Kel snatched the pieces back. He hadn’t expected this. “Do I get off or do I stay on the bus?” he whispered, and flipped. The two halves landed.
Heads and tails: “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’ll show you what it means,” said the Nuarin, lunging forwards and cuffing Kel’s left hand to the rail. He then opened the door, switched on his Corporation laser blade, and calmly sliced him in half. The lower part of Kel’s body fell towards the street below. The upper half slumped to the floor. Eyes wide with shock, Kel used his free hand to try to stop his guts spilling towards the open doorway.
“P-p-please…”
“You can be rebuilt, you know.” The voice came from somewhere near the back of the bus. “If we get to the Medcentre in time.”
“Or you can die.” The Nuarin picked up the pieces of coin from where they lay in the spreading pool of blood, and tossed them into the air. “Tails says we take you to the Med.” The two halves landed.
“I m-may have been wrong about s-spontaneity,” Kel gasped.
Heads: “You lose, so let’s speed things up,” the Nuarin laughed, and aimed his laser at Kel’s neck.
- - -
Bec Zugor has had short stories published in a number of ezines and magazines, including Scribble, MicroHorror and Escape Velocity. She lives in Sussex, England with her husband and two sons.
By Bec Zugor
Heads: “That’s it, then. From now on, I’ll make decisions based solely upon the toss of a coin.” Kel kissed his antique 2015 fiver. “You, my friend, will organise my life. Stuff the Corporation and its rules. My life’s been boring for too long; spontaneity is the answer. Now, do I or don’t I?”
Tails: “A fun decision, my silver sage.” Kel filled all the boxes on the Corporation’s Hourly Analysis of Activities/Monday e-form with “NOYB.” Too right. How he spent his days was nobody’s business but his.
Heads: “Spot on. I’d rather have nutriberry jam than SimFish paste anyway.” He ate his breakfast in silence, and raised a glass of soya milk to his wife’s holoshrine. Should he worry?
Tails: Yes. He started to worry; the Corporation could do to him what it did to her. What next? He flipped his fiver.
Heads: “Damn. I wanted tails again.” Tails would’ve meant hiding in his friend Marty’s bunker until he could get an eye transplant and a new ID chip. Heads meant heading for the hills and hoping for a miracle escape from the Enforcers. He gathered some essentials and made his way to the roof of the 80-storey block. The bus arrived. He needed somewhere on the outskirts of the city. N or T?
Tails: “Sector N,” Kel said, waving his hand at the small screen inside the door. Good, they hadn’t stopped his credits yet. The bus was full, so he stood near the door. A blue-skinned Torlanite glared at him, all the while plaiting the tendrils sprouting from her eyebrows. Should he risk a smile? They made fantastic lovers, he’d heard – not that he had time to do anything about it now – and apparently they liked humans.
Tails: Apparently not, and now the whole busload was watching him. Instead, he smiled at the Nuarin standing next to him. He needed to appear casual. “Crowded today, huh?”
“What’s with the coin?” The Nuarin whipped out a tentacle and grabbed the fiver from Kel’s hand.
“It’s a better way of making decisions. You should do the same.” Kel raised his voice, forgetting that he was supposed to be keeping a low profile. “For too long, the Corporation has…” He stopped, open-mouthed, as the Nuarin snapped his precious coin in half with his pincers. Kel snatched the pieces back. He hadn’t expected this. “Do I get off or do I stay on the bus?” he whispered, and flipped. The two halves landed.
Heads and tails: “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’ll show you what it means,” said the Nuarin, lunging forwards and cuffing Kel’s left hand to the rail. He then opened the door, switched on his Corporation laser blade, and calmly sliced him in half. The lower part of Kel’s body fell towards the street below. The upper half slumped to the floor. Eyes wide with shock, Kel used his free hand to try to stop his guts spilling towards the open doorway.
“P-p-please…”
“You can be rebuilt, you know.” The voice came from somewhere near the back of the bus. “If we get to the Medcentre in time.”
“Or you can die.” The Nuarin picked up the pieces of coin from where they lay in the spreading pool of blood, and tossed them into the air. “Tails says we take you to the Med.” The two halves landed.
“I m-may have been wrong about s-spontaneity,” Kel gasped.
Heads: “You lose, so let’s speed things up,” the Nuarin laughed, and aimed his laser at Kel’s neck.
- - -
Bec Zugor has had short stories published in a number of ezines and magazines, including Scribble, MicroHorror and Escape Velocity. She lives in Sussex, England with her husband and two sons.
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Splendid. I loved the coin snap.
Heads and tails: “What the hell does that mean?” Ha! Classic!
This woman is bloodthirsty! Well thought out and writing cannot be faulted. Longer story or a book in this one.
Great flash, Bec!