“I’d love to believe you. I really, really would. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to back away now. We’ll release Woodbury when we see your tail lights.”

Lucy shook her head, and started forward. “I can’t do that, Kelly.”

“Stop walking.”

“Please understand my position.”

“Stop walking!” Milo shouted.

Lucy stopped. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she said. “If the Chief arrives, he takes over. You don’t want to be on the end of that. Ortmann and me, we are willing to let you walk away. Guys, please, this is our chance for everyone to get out of this in one piece.”

Kelly looked at Milo.

“New proposal,” he said. “You back off. We get to my car. When the car is turned around and ready to drive, we let your friend go.”

“You drove your car into the side of a barn,” Ortmann called.

“She’s sturdy,” said Milo. “She’ll be fine.”

There was a moment of low talking outside, then Lucy raised her voice. “We’re cool with that,” she said. “We’re putting our guns away.” One set of headlights cut off. A moment later, the second set died, and Kelly’s eyes began to adjust.

Milo passed the shotgun to her and picked up Woodbury, grunting at the man’s weight.

“Ready?” he whispered.

Kelly nodded.

They walked out. Lucy and Ortmann stood together, hands at their sides.

Kelly smiled at them. “This weather, eh?”

“It always snows on Hell Night,” said Ortmann.

“Is that so?” said Kelly.

“Well … not always. But mostly.”

Kelly laughed. “Look at us, talking about the weather. This is all very civilised.”

Lucy shrugged, but her eyes stayed wary. “Goes to show what can be accomplished with a little common sense. How’s our guy?”

“I headbutted him.”

“You must have a hard head.”

“That’s what my teachers always told me.”

She would have carried on, would have light-heartedly asked for some Tylenol, but at the sound of a motorcycle her heart dive-bombed in her chest.

A single Hound came roaring through the broken fence. Milo dropped Woodbury, started firing the shotgun. The cops spun, shifting into their grinning selves even as they drew their weapons, adding their firepower to Milo’s.

“Forget about the bike!” Milo commanded. “Aim for the rider!”

Bullets hit the Hound, jerking his torso, but not stopping him, not making him fall.

“Back!” Lucy cried. “To the barn!”

Kelly went first, and when the last of them were through she pulled the door shut. The bike roared so close and so loud she was sure the Hound was going to burst through, but he veered at the last minute, forced off by shotgun blasts.