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The creatures are scratching at the door, their howls muted by the wood

“The ,” Dervish says “There are handholds down the wall We can get out that way”

“Handholds?” Meera asks dubiously

“Call me paranoid,” Dervish says, “but I always like to have an escape route” He crosses to theand jerks hard on the strings of the blinds, yanking them all the way up As he leans forward to unlatch the , I get a sudden sense of danger

“Down!” I scream

Dervish doesn’t pause, which is the only thing that saves him Because as he throws hilass above his head shatters frounfire of several rifles

Meera curses and ducks low The bullets strike the wall and shelves, ripping upweapons from their holders A few ricochet into his computer and laptop, which explode in showers of sparks

I’ This is uns more repulsive than demons I can accept the evil ways of otherworldly beasts who know nothing except chaos and destruction But to think that humans created such violent, vicious weapons…

“What’s going on?” Meera screaunfire stops “Who’s out there?”

“They didn’t introduce themselves,” Dervish quips

He’s sitting with his back to the wall, beneath the shattered glass of theHe has the look of aa difficult crossword puzzle

“We’re trapped,” I snap Meera and Dervish look at ht the olves or the people with guns?”

“The olves would appear to be the preferable option,” Dervish says “We can’t fight the crew outside—we’d be shot to ribbons in no tiht of that I doubt we’ll have a clear run if we get past the olves—which is a pretty sizeable if” He gets to his knees and grins “How about we fight neither of them?”

“What are you talking about?” Meera growls

“A paranoid person has one escape route, easy to spot if your foe has a keen eye But a real paranoia freak always has a second, less obvious way out”