Stepping out of the car felt like crossing a line. It was entirely possible I was going up against complete mundanes.

No, against people who knew just enough to be in danger.

Mike was going first. I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want anyone but me to go in there, not really. I pulled my hat down slightly so I wouldn’t be immediately recognizable. I probably looked like I was going skiing.

Anticlimax. He knocked on the door. Nobody answered.

Quietly, I sneaked towards a window and tried to peek inside, but what of it wasn’t boarded up was glass with such a fine network of cracks in it as to make it completely opaque. I wasn’t seeing anything that way.

Seeing.

Inside, I could hear voices. I caught the occasional word. “Door. No. They. Notice.”

They were hoping whoever had knocked on the door would think the building was empty and go away. I wanted to be able to see in there.

I glanced at Mike, then had a crazy, seen-too-many-movies idea. Was there…yes, there was a fire escape. I ran up it, as close to silent as I could, found a door at the top that led to some kind of upper story.

It was locked. I worked on jimmying it, trying to stay quiet. If I could get inside I could see what was going on.

If I could see I would know for sure what we were dealing with. I got it, and slipped into…

…an abandoned office. There was a heavy metal desk and an even heavier-looking filing cabinet; no doubt whoever had worked here had decided they weren’t worth the effort of moving. That was off the corridor to one side. The other side was a men’s room stripped of most of the plumbing.

I saw no ladies room, at least not yet. I moved down the corridor, hoping to…yes. It did open out onto a catwalk above the shop floor. Quiet, quiet…

…and then the alarm went off. Crap. I was apparently not well suited to this.

I hoped it would be heard outside the building as I ducked back into the corridor, pulled out my gun and flicked off the safety.

I heard voices again. One of them was Monica’s. She sounded annoyed rather than afraid. Not quite self-rescuing, but calm enough not to interfere with us. Good.

Then the door burst open and Mike and Thruor plunged through it. “On the ground!” Mike yelled.

A shot went off. I wasn’t sure who’s, but I moved out onto the catwalk again. There were only eight of them.

Only eight and none of them sensed as anything but mundanes. “Idiots!” one of the men called.

I wasn’t sure if he meant his side or ours.