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The door was open about a foot and the fat one stuck his head inside. This was her opportunity. Lori drove the screwdriver into its right eye, the eyeball turning to black jelly. She drove it in further, hoping to hit the brain. Then she twisted and the freak hissed at her. She gave the screwdriver one final thrust, burying it to the handle. The fat bastard finally pulled its head back and Lori slammed the door shut.
     
    The door shook again as they threw themselves against it. The desk moved back again. Lori eyed the other door. It was her only option. Now the woman stuck her head through an opening in the door. Lori swung the hammer. It caved in the top of the woman's head, squishing like a rotten watermelon.  Lori yanked the hammer free and swung again, hitting her in the temple.
     
    The woman pulled back.
     
    A pale hand shot through the opening and Lori tried to shove the desk against the door. The door squished the creature's hand and it grunted in pain.
     
    She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up.
     
     
    Tim arrived on eight and went to suite eight-ten. He walked through the reception area and into the offices, where he saw a man of about thirty-five and a blond-haired little girl sitting on one of the desks. The man, seeing him, stood up.
     
    “Evening,” Tim said.
     
    “Glad to see you.”
     
    “What happened?”
     
    He had to take good care of the Chief's husband and daughter.  Rob told Tim how the girl went down to the cafeteria to get a snack and was chased by a man in coveralls. Someone named Carl. The girl had stabbed him.
     
    “And she ran up here?”
     
    “That's right.”
     
    “Here's what I'm going to do. I'll walk you two downstairs to wait with the rest of the group. Safer that way. I'll sweep the building and look for this Carl guy. Sound good?”
     
    “That's the way you do it, fine by me,” Rob said.
     
     
    Tim escorted them to the lobby and was surprised when he found the rest of the group still there. He ordered them to stay put and went back to the elevator. The girl had seen the man near the cafeteria, so he'd start there.
     
    The elevator stopped at seven and he stepped out, unstrapping his holster. He saw a sign on the wall with an arrow pointing to the cafeteria. He followed it, the hairs on his neck standing at attention.
     
    The cafeteria doors were straight ahead, and he drew his Glock. He eased the doors open and saw the upended tables and chairs. He moved through the cafeteria to the serving line area, then wound around that to the kitchen doors. Going inside, he flipped on the lights.
     
    Inside were three rows of stainless steel counters. Large commercial ovens lined the walls, and pots and pans hung from racks on the ceiling.
     
    He found the storage room, the door wide open. A trail of blood led from the door, the result of the girl stabbing Carl. He hadn't noticed the trail on the way in, but he tracked it back to the cafeteria and out the door. It led to the stairwell. How the hell had he missed it on the way in?
     
    After easing the stairwell door open, he stepped onto the landing and saw the dots of blood continuing down the steps. From below, he heard someone chattering to themselves.
     
    “Police! Show yourself!”
     
    Heavy footsteps slapped the stairs and Tim crouched in a shooter's stance. He saw the man in the blue coveralls round the corner and bound up the steps. His eyes were mad with rage, and he wasn't stopping.
     
    Tim squeezed off a round, catching the man in the leg. It barely slowed him down. The man – Carl – dragged himself up the stairs. Drool dripped from his mouth. What the hell was he?  
     
    Tim reached that moment every cop dreads: deciding whether or not to use deadly force. The gunshot to the leg hadn't slowed him.
     
    He squeezed the trigger. The shot caught Carl in the head and he tumbled down the stairs, smacking his noggin against the wall. Blood leaked out of him. He wasn't moving. Tim crept down the