And when I was done, my eyes had adjusted to the gloom. Now I could see the roughly twisted strands of wire taped to the doorframe, the connector that would separate when the door opened, the cardboard box set against the doorsill, big enough to hold a basketball, to which the wires ran. The last vestige of fog left my brain in a great cold rush.

Prom beyond the door came the sound of something falling over.

“Don’t open the door!” I screamed. A steel door full of insulation; could he hear the words? “Walt, this is Orient! Don’t open the door!”

“What the fuck?” If I could hear him, then he could hear me. Thank you, God.

“There’s a bomb wired to your door! It’ll go off if you open it. Stay there until I get someone to disarm it!”

“There’s a what?”

“A bomb—don’t touch the door! The cops’ll have somebody who can dismantle it. Walt, do you hear me?”

He was right next to the door now. “Is this a joke? Did that goddamn elf broad put you up to this?”

“What?” Oh, he meant Tick-Tick. “It’s not a joke; there’s a box out here big enough to—I don’t know. Just don’t open the door. It’s got something to do with the motorcycle around back.”

There was no comment from the other side of the door.

“Walt?”

“Who sent you?”

“Nobody. Walt—”

“Who the fuck sent you?” He’d stepped back a little.

“Walt, calm down—”

His voice rose in volume and pitch. “… Backstabbin’ sonofabitch! Well, fuck him!” The last was a shriek. I could hear the mingled fury and terror even through the steel.

“Walt?”

No answer. In the room beyond the door, something clattered.

In one sickening instant, I knew what was happening. “Walt, no!” I screamed, and launched myself toward the back of the house. I couldn’t have been fast enough if I’d teleported.

Felkin, you idiot. Did you think he wouldn’t rig the back door, too?

The blast from it, when Walt tried to bolt, blew out the windows in a hailstorm of glass. I remember that: over my head, three sparkling gouts of glass, like water spat out by someone surprised by a joke. Surprise, Walt.

The contents of the cardboard box at the front door went off immediately, when the first blast warped the door. I felt it more than I heard it. The third explosion, though—I heard that one. The one set off by what I’d mistaken for a security cable on the motorcycle. It sounded like the Devil himself was laughing.

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