“What are you doing?” asked Vinci.

Marcus began untying the guard’s shoelaces. “Buying us an extra thirty seconds.” He began tightly knotting the shoelaces back together, tying one shoe to the other; Galen groaned as soon as he realized what Marcus was doing.

“Oh, come on,” said Galen, “it’s taking you at least thirty seconds just to do that. You’re not buying us anything.”

“I’m buying a happy memory,” said Marcus. “I didn’t like this guy even before he tried to crack my skull open.” He looked at the fallen guard and grinned. “Have fun falling down idiotically twice in one day.” He stood, reaching out a hand as the world swam again. Woolf grabbed him and held him firm. “Tell me about the first time he fell,” said Marcus. “I missed it.”

“Vinci swept his legs and then head-butted him on the way down,” said Galen.

“Was it awesome?” asked Marcus. “Tell me it was awesome.”

“Both of you shut up,” said Woolf. “We’re leaving now.” He put a hand on the back door—it was locked, but the guard had held the key in his shirt pocket. The guard took the prisoners out through it at regular intervals to pee, which had given the three others their brief time alone to plan this escape. Woolf listened cautiously at the door, slid in the key, and turned it with a scrape and a rusty click. They froze, listening again for any sign that the noise had been noticed, but there was nothing.

Marcus shivered, ignoring the pain of the air brushing the skin around his wrists. “Are you sure I was only out a few minutes? I’m freezing—it feels like it’s already night.”

“One minute only,” said Vinci. “It’s late afternoon.”

“But it is cold,” said Woolf. He turned the creaky handle, as slowly as he could, and pulled the door open. “Holy . . .”

The parking lot outside was half-filled with cars, old and rusted, the pavement run through with seams and cracks as plants pushed up from underneath—and over it all, white and ethereal, was a gauzy curtain of falling snow.

“What on earth?” said Galen.

“Well, now we know one thing,” said Marcus. “That crazy story about the big red giant was apparently true.” He made a face, staring at the snow. “Actually the big red giant was easier to believe than this part. Is this really snow? I’ve never even seen it except on old holovid shows.”

“This is the real thing,” said Woolf. “Now come on.” He stepped out into it, leaving a boot print in the thin layer of white that covered the ground.

“That’s going to make us easy to follow,” said Vinci.

“Only if they’re right behind us,” said Woolf. “Another few minutes and our tracks’ll be completely covered. We couldn’t have asked for better conditions.”