Miranda doesn’t want to pin her life on someone wielding a three-hole punch. “Can’t we lock that door?” she asks Amina.

But the other girl just shakes her head.

Miranda gives the nearest shelving unit a tentative push. It doesn’t budge. She leans on it with all her weight. It shifts the tiniest amount, maybe a quarter of an inch. Still, it’s something.

“If we can use one of these shelves to barricade the door, they won’t be able to open it. Then maybe it won’t matter that we don’t have weapons.”

“That’s a good idea,” Cole says, and Miranda feels a surge of pride.

She moves to the unit nearest the door. “Help me empty the shelves so it won’t be as heavy.” Amina and Cole move toward her, but Grace stays put. Miranda stands in front of her and holds out her hands. “Come on, Grace. Get up and help.”

After a few seconds, Grace, still whimpering, grabs Miranda’s hand and stands up.

“Maybe I can help too.” Javier pushes himself up on his elbows.

“No, you can’t, buddy,” Cole says matter-of-factly. “Moving around is just going to make that wound bleed more.”

Together Miranda, Grace, and Cole start dumping stacks of flannel shirts and boxes of chunky boots on the floor. Amina tries to neatly pile things. The shelves are made of lighter, flimsier metal than the framework of the shelving unit, so they leave them in place.

Miranda mouths the words “One, two, three,” and then the four of them push at the same time. The shelving unit slides only a couple of inches. Without saying anything, they gradually figure out how to work together and the best places to push, skidding it a little farther with each shove. Once, it makes a loud metallic squeal and they all freeze. But when there’s no answering noise from the far side of the door, they resume pushing.

And finally, they manage to slide it across the door.

“Good job!” Javier whispers. Amina mimes clapping. Grace tries on a trembling smile. Miranda can’t help grinning.

Then Cole whispers a curse.

“What’s the matter?” Miranda looks more closely at the door. No hinges, which means they must be on the other side. And that means … She swears too.

Amina’s eyes fill with tears. Grace still looks confused until Miranda explains, “The door. It opens out.”

No Matter What Happens

NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS

4:17 P.M.

Miranda rounds on Amina. “You work here,” she says through gritted teeth. “You know which way the door closes! Why didn’t you say something while we were busting our butts?”

Now all the killers need to do is yank open the door, poke one of their guns between the shelves, and spray the room.