“Promise you’ll come after me.”

I look frantically around the front yard. Is he behind a tree? On the street? In the construction house again? “What are you talking about?”

“I lost my family,” Finn says, as casually as if discussing a grocery list. “Or they lost me, depending on your perspective.”

“Skip to the end.” 29, 28 …

“You leave your family here, and I won’t do anything to them. You just have to chase me.”

“Chase you?”

“I’m bored, Suzie Q. And you’re the most interesting thing in my life.”

“Lucky me.” It’s got to be the black one. That’s always the one they cut in movies. My hand is shaking. I grab my wrist with my other hand to steady it. 23, 22 …

“You’re thinking the black wire,” Finn says. “But maybe I switched them. Verne taught me a few things about explosives.”

“How do I stop it?” I almost shout.

“You gonna chase me, Suzie?”

18, 17 …

“Fuck, okay, yes.”

“Promise me. Swear on something you care about.”

14, 13 …

“I swear to God, Finn, I’ll—”

“Not God.” Finn sounds almost disgusted. “You don’t care about Him.”

8, 7 …

“On my father!” I shout. “I swear on my father!”

6, 5 …

“Clip the white one,” Finn says.

4, 3 …

I miss the white wire completely, snipping air. I move the pliers again and snip. The blades cut the wire in two. I look at the timer. It reads 1. It’s stopped.

“That was exciting,” Finn says.

I’m bathed in sweat and I want to collapse to the ground in relief. Instead I stand and turn around, eyes darting everywhere. “Where are you?” I snarl.

“Not close enough for you to get to me,” Finn says. “I hear Seattle is nice this time of year. Come play, Suzie, and I’ll leave your family alone. But you have to leave right now. No confab with your uncle and your buddies. Leave your phone on the porch and drive off on your bike, right now. Or I’ll kill every single person in that house.”

“You want me to find you in Seattle?”

“You find people,” Finn says. “I have faith in you. Tick-tock.” A click, and he’s gone.