“But we don’t have a screwdriver,” Dreads whispers.

“There’s a knife on the floor of Van Duyn’s workroom.”

“The tip would probably just break,” Heels says. “But the handle end—that might work.”

*   *   *

Wolf says to Amina, “So they all just ran off and left you. Where did they go?”

She lifts her chin, and her voice carries. “I don’t know. Inshallah, they escaped.”

Wolf leans closer to her. “And did you see anyone else back in the service corridors?”

“Only Linda from Pottery Barn.” Amina’s voice breaks. “And she’s dead.”

*   *   *

“Start more than one fire if you can,” Heels whispers. “We want lots of smoke. We want sprinklers going off. Maybe a fire alarm if they’re still operating. The more confusion the better. And then when one of them checks it out, we go for him.”

In his mind’s eye, Parker pictures the roll of white wrapping paper in the Van Duyn workroom, the stacks of paper candy cups and boxes. He can start the fire right on the worktable, which will put it even closer to the sprinkler.

“I’ll take Van Duyn. But someone has to watch my sister. Has to keep her safe.”

*   *   *

Wolf speaks into the mic on his shoulder. “Kilo, have they given you an ETA for the prisoner release?”

He waits, but there’s no answer.

“Come in, Kilo, come in.” Wolf makes his voice louder with each repetition, as if the mic will work better if he projects more. “Kilo, do you copy?”

Ron slices his hand through the air. “First your brother, now Kilo. I don’t like this!”

*   *   *

“No one’s safe,” Stanford whispers. “But I’ll try.” She holds out her arms. “Come here, honey.”

“No!” Moxie throws her arms around Parker’s waist.

“Shh!” Parker tucks one hand under her chin and raises her face so that her swollen eyes look into his. Greedily, he inhales the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Stay with her, Moxie. I need to help stop the bad guys.”

“But they’re the bad guys,” she insists. “They’re the ones who hurt you.” At least she’s still keeping her voice down.

“They only did that because those men made them. Those masked men are the real bad guys, and we have to stop them. Don’t you want to get out of here, Moxie?” His whisper falters and breaks. “Don’t you want to see Mom and Dad again?” Parker’s real life—his parents, his wrestling team, his friends, his school—seems like a dream. In reality, he has always been here, the tastes of coppery blood and bitter fear coating his tongue, his sister desperately clinging to him.

“Yes.” Her soft voice nearly kills him.

“Then let me do this, Mox. So we can go home.”

Her arms finally loosen.

Every Rattle and Click

EVERY RATTLE AND CLICK

5:56 P.M.