Jor was a hunted man.

Short and stocky as he was, he scaled the chain-linked fence faster than he imagined he could. His ankle still throbbed, his trail of blood giving away his location.

Still he had to run. He wasn’t a man that could simply resign himself to a situation simply because all odds were against him.

Stooping over he caught his breath and regained his composure. “What have I done.” he thought as he resumed his escape. Two shots rang as he felt his warm blood flowing down his back. Jor fell hard, as his blood pooled fast.

“This should be the last one” said the Hunter into . . nothing. Nothing Jor could see anyway as the image of his world faded to black. “Funny . .” Jor thought “I’m still conscious, I think”. He then felt the Hunter jabbing something sharp into the back of his skull.

The pain subsided and he was aware of everything once more, except he was now standing in his kitchen doorway again, watching his wife prepare lunch for the second time that day. “Gotta be deja’vu”