I moved into the room and stood beside Ranger. Norvil was on the far side of the room with his back against the wall. To his right was a chipped Formica table and a single wooden chair. Half the table was taken over with a cardboard box filled with food. Ritz crackers, Count Chocula cereal, a bag of marshmallows, a bottle of ketchup. A dorm-sized refrigerator was on the floor by the table. Norvil was dressed in a faded T-shirt that said "Get Gas From Bud" and a pair of baggy, soiled khakis. And he was holding a carton of eggs.

"Lousy fuckers," he said. And before I realized what was happening . . . SPLAT. I got hit in the forehead with an egg. I jumped back, and the ketchup bottle sailed by my ear, smashed on the doorjamb and ketchup splattered everywhere. This was followed by the pickle jar and more eggs. Ranger caught an egg on his arm, and I got one square on my chest. I turned to dodge a jar of mayo and got hit in the back of the head with another egg. Norvil was in a frenzy, throwing whatever he laid hands on . . . crackers, croutons, corn chips, knives and spoons, cereal bowls and dinner plates. A bag of flour exploded in his hands, and flour flew in all directions. "Rotten pinko, commie bastards," he shouted, searching through the box for more ammo.

"Now!" Ranger said.

We both lunged for Thompson, going for his arms. Ranger locked a cuff on one wrist. We struggled to secure the other. Norvil took a swing at me, catching me in the shoulder. I lost my footing in the cracker crumbs and flour and went down hard to the floor. I heard the second cuff click closed and looked up at Ranger.

Ranger was smiling. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just peachy."

"You have enough food on you to feed a family of four for a week."

Ranger had none. A small stain on one arm where he'd gotten hit by the egg.

"So why is it you're so clean and I'm such a mess?"

"For one thing, I didn't stand in the middle of the room, making a target of myself. For another thing, I didn't fall on the floor and roll in flour." He reached a hand out to me and helped me up. "First rule of combat. If someone throws something at you, step out of the way."

"Devil whore," Norvil shouted at me.

"Listen," I shouted back, "I was due. And it's none of your business anyway."

"He calls everyone a devil whore," Ranger said.

"Oh."

Norvil planted his feet wide. "I'm not going anywhere."

I looked at the stun gun on Ranger's utility belt. "How about we zap him?"

"You can't zap me," Norvil said. "I'm an old man. I got a pacemaker. You screw up my pacemaker and you'll be in big trouble. It could even kill me."

"Boy," I said, "that's tempting."