We didn’t have a shopping list as such, beyond some basic asks like beer, soda, milk, and bread. And Cheetos. And we were shopping hungry, so the baskets filled quickly and haphazardly. The store wasn’t by any means deserted, yet I got the impression that the clerk was watching us more closely than seemed necessary. But maybe that was just paranoia.

We eventually made our way to the checkout and placed our baskets on the counter. The clerk eyed the haul, gave us a strange look, and started running the items through the scanner. Slowly. While glancing far too often at the front door. While obviously trying not to glance at the front door.

I was no seasoned secret agent, but I was pretty sure that was a tell. I glanced at Nat, who also appeared to have noticed the odd behavior.

“Two police cars have pulled into the parking lot,” Sheldon announced over the cling-on. “Their demeanor appears more focused than a donut run would require. Patrick says to be ready for trouble.”

I put my hand into my right hoodie pocket and gripped the disruptor. Nat stepped back from the counter so that she also had a clear field of fire.

Then the door burst open and four cops came in, guns drawn. “Hands up,” one yelled.

It was all they had time for. I pushed the button on the disruptor without bothering to draw it from my pocket. There was a brief tingling on my abdomen, probably from the zap grazing me.

All the cops went down in a heap. “Is that all of them, Sheldon?” I said.

“Yes. But very likely more will follow. You should leave.”

Nat, meanwhile, pulled out her disruptor and pointed it at the clerk. “Did you call them?”

“Y-y-yes. Please don’t—wait, what’s that thing? Is that what you shot them with? You’re kidding, right? That’s a toy, right?” The man started to put his hands down.

Nat moved the slider to the lowest setting and fired. The clerk sort of shriek-grunted and did what I would have sworn was an impossible yoga move. The smell of urine wafted into the air.

“Does that feel like a toy?” Nat snarled, leaning over the counter. “Why. Did. You. Call them?”

The clerk gasped, holding on to the counter with both hands. It took him several seconds to get his breath. “For the reward. On TV.”

“We’re on TV?” I exclaimed.

“You didn’t know? All-points bulletin. Ten grand for information, etcetera. I, uh, recognized your girlfriend. She’s kind of hot … ”

“Shit.” I looked at the cash register. So far, we’d totaled up a little over forty dollars. I pulled out the wad of money we’d collected, stripped out three twenties, and threw them on the counter. “Keep the change.” We grabbed our groceries and made for the door.