Mollie slammed open a portal to the casino before she could think about what she was doing. Before she had time to chicken out. It was about the size of a pantry door, centered near where the slot machines had been. The space underlying the Talas side of the portal felt strange. Ripply, or jiggly. Almost organic. Mollie shuddered.

Wisps of oily, luminescent mist wafted through the hole in space. It smelled like rotting meat, and echoed with screams and non-Euclidean scuttling. Compared to the oppressive death-stink of the evil insanity zone, the diesel-fuel-and-zombies’ odor of the warehouse was like a rose bouquet and twice as welcome. The casino had become a foggy hellscape, as if the deepest subconscious nightmares of Hieronymus Bosch, M. C. Escher, and H. R. Giger dropped a metric shit-ton of acid and then fucked each other blind in an amphetamine-fueled three-way. She couldn’t recognize anything, much less tell if she’d hit the mark.

Mollie closed the portal. “Hold on a second. Let me try again. I can save you some time if I can get a portal on a street outside the casino.” She pictured the streetscape as seen from Baba Yaga’s window, just outside the casino, where she’d glimpsed the big snake guy.

The warped geometry inside Horrorshow’s sphere of influence made it almost impossible for Mollie to know if she’d successfully moved the portal. It could’ve been fifty yards, half an inch, or a light-year for all the difference it made. But she did manage to get it open again.

“Okay. Hurry.”

Joey closed her eyes. She fell quiet again. The zombies shambled forward at what, for them, seemed a bit of a hurry. But it wasn’t fast enough. They weren’t going to Talas faster than the evil was seeping through.

“Come on, come on,” said Mollie. “Hurry.”

“Keep your panties on,” said Joey, through gritted teeth.

The first ring of lights dimmed, flickered. Why wasn’t Joey hurrying? Didn’t she realize this was important? Didn’t she know what Mollie was putting on the line for her? Ungrateful little bitch. Mollie curled her fists. She ought to—

Joey slapped her across the face so hard it snapped her head aside. The portal disappeared; the lights came back to full strength. Mollie blinked away tears. Her ears rang. She rubbed her stinging cheek. It felt hot.

“Ouch! Jesus.” Joey had walloped her but good.

Mollie shuddered. She’d started to slip away far too quickly that time.

“You were mumbling to yourself,” Joey mumbled. “Didn’t like the … sound … of it.” She still had a faraway look in her eyes, as if eavesdropping on a conversation just at the edge of audibility. She frowned. When she spoke, the words came out slurred and distracted, as if she’d been to the dentist and shot full of novocaine. “I … uh … I can barely keep ahold of the toe tags.”