Gretchen took his hand in hers. The gun was somehow still in his fist. Gretchen peeled off his fingers one by one from the grip. He let her do it. It was like he was watching it happen to someone else. It didn’t occur to him to resist. He couldn’t have, even if he’d had the presence of mind to want to.

It was all so slow, so foreign. His fingers were stiff and sticky with blood. When she had the gun free she ejected the magazine and held it up in front of his face. “You’ve got two bullets,” she told him. She caught his eye. “You hear me?” she asked. “Two.” She waited for him to manage a nod and then she reinserted the magazine into the handgrip. It fell into place with a familiar metallic click. Then she disengaged the safety and handed it back to him. This time, as he folded his hand around it, he could feel the weight of the metal. He was no longer numb. The grip of the gun was electric against his flesh.

“You want to save her?” Gretchen whispered. She smiled encouragingly.

He did want to save her. He wanted Susan to stay alive. Right now, it was the most important thing in the world to him.

Gretchen stepped back. “Then save her,” she said.

Something else crashed beyond the door. Archie felt the pulse of the impact through the wall. Then he heard Susan gasp loudly in pain.

“Wait,” Archie whispered to Gretchen. His vision was too blurry. He blinked, trying to clear it. He cared too much. This wasn’t going to work. He was going to fail. Gretchen stepped back in front of him and came into focus again, that beautiful face of hers. She raised an eyebrow. He was too weak. He needed some intensity, an internal switch to be thrown. He was desperate. There was no one else. Karim would kill Susan by the time the others found a way in. Susan was counting on him.

“Hit me,” Archie said.