She lowered her gun, whimpering silently at the ache in her stiff shoulders. She moved as quietly as she could to the side of the room, out of the line of fire that would come through the door, and listened again. All was quiet. She reached out with one hand, hugging the wall tightly, and touched the doorknob. Nobody shot her. She took a breath, gripped the knob tightly, and threw it open as fast as she could, yanking her hand back and rolling away from the opening. No gunfire, no shouts, no noise at all but the creak of the door. She stared at the dark black doorway, trying to work up the courage to go through it, and decided to try one more thing; she picked up the monitor she’d knocked off the desk, found a good stance, and heaved it out the door, hoping to draw the fire of anyone lurking on the other side. The monitor clattered to the ground, the screen cracked, and the silence returned.

“Nobody shoot me,” she said, just in case, and slowly came around the corner of the door frame. The pizza place beyond was as empty as ever, and out in the street the sagging metal cars reflected shafts of moonlight. She crept outside, rifle up and ready, checking her corners and watching for an ambush, but she was alone. On the far side of the street stood the subway entrance, and beside it the large man’s cart, motionless and abandoned. A jug lay on the ground nearby, dropped on its side, the water now long spilled out. A few feet away, where he had laid it against the wall of the subway entrance, was the man’s bulging backpack.

Kira walked a full circuit of the intersection, running from car to car for cover, before approaching the backpack. It was enormous, practically as big as she was, and she couldn’t help but think of the shattered craters of the previous two houses she’d seen. Did she really want to open a bomber’s backpack? He could have left it here as a trap specifically to kill her . . . but honestly, he’d had so many easier opportunities to just shoot her if he really wanted her dead. Or were explosives the only weapon he knew? Maybe he really didn’t have a gun at all.