Archie looked at the blood on his finger and moved in front of the door directly into Cooper’s line of fire. He pressed his ear against the door and listened. He closed his eyes. He could hear the scraping noise again, louder. And then a faint rattling. It grew louder and then faded, and then repeated the pattern. It was breathing.

Archie reached up and, ignoring Susan’s and Cooper’s protests, he turned the doorknob. He could immediately feel the weight of the body against the door, and had to get to his feet and use his shoulder to brace it so that he could open it slowly. Cooper stepped to Archie’s left, and helped anchor the door with his foot as he aimed his weapon through the ten-inch opening, and Archie peered around to see what was on the other side.

Razor Burn was slumped on the hall floor, his back against the door, his chin on his chest. Cooper shifted his foot and Archie felt the full weight of Razor Burn’s body again. He eased the door open as Cooper continued to scan the hallway with his weapon. When the door was at a wide enough angle, Archie was able to take Razor Burn by the armpits and drag him inside the room. As soon as Razor Burn’s heels crossed the threshold, Cooper slammed the door shut.

“See anything out there?” Archie asked Cooper. Razor Burn was unresponsive, his breathing shallow, his shirt soaked in blood. Archie reached for his wrist to take a pulse. Susan hovered at his shoulder. Archie didn’t see Karim.

“A lot of blood,” Cooper said. “You think this was her?” he asked.

Archie’s fingers touched something slippery and warm in Razor Burn’s hand. He reflexively recoiled and Razor Burn’s limp hand fell open and the glistening, lumpy, rope of flesh he had been holding slopped onto his shirt. Susan squealed. Razor Burn’s abdomen gaped open, revealing subcutaneous fat and the red meat of muscle. He had been holding his own intestines.

Archie’s mouth went dry. He swallowed hard. “It’s her,” he said.

Cooper was silent, but his eyes were vigilant. He lifted his chin and turned his gaze out the front window behind Jack’s desk. He was listening, Archie realized. But all Archie could hear was Razor Burn’s strained, rattled wheeze. His pulse was so weak it was almost undetectable. Archie knelt over him. His bulging intestinal tissue lay in a bloody heap across his belly.

“Sirens,” Cooper said.

Archie heard them then. The familiar wail of emergency vehicles was so distant that it was almost imperceptible. Help was coming. If it got here fast, Razor Burn might even live. Archie wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and propped Razor Burn’s knees up to keep as much blood as possible circulating in his heart.

“What can I do?” Susan asked.

“Find me a clean cloth or napkin,” Archie said.

Susan scrambled toward the bar.

“I didn’t call for the police,” Karim said darkly. “Who did?”