There he sat, hunched over and snoring, a gun laid out and exposed beside him—everyone knew that Derrin hated being an Agent, but this level of carelessness, the fact that he was asleep, sitting on the floor right now, made LaMesha’s body tense up, her face reddened. She twirled his gun as she approached.
“Hey, Derrin,” LaMesha called out. Her voice was still monotone but picked up in volume.
Startled, Derrin snorted. He jumped back and scooted away. His hands fumbled around, reaching for a gun; his sunglasses lay crooked on his face.
LaMesha could only glare. She shook her head and presented the weapon he gave Jioni, asking: “This yours?”
LaMesha threw the gun at his chest; It collided with his body. The weapon hit the ground, and the magazine popped out.