Chapter 8 · First Customer Has an Axe

The signal's been out maybe three minutes when the front gate rattles.

Not the polite rattle of someone testing if you're open. The kind that says they already decided you are.

I pull my attention to the entrance. The decorative arch is still half-caved from when Ivy broke through yesterday, but the actual doorframe held. Sort of. I can feel someone standing just outside, boots scraping tile that used to be part of the welcome mat. Big. Heavy coat. Something metal slung across their back.

"Noah." Ivy's voice cuts through from the coffee kiosk. She's still standing where she slapped the knife down, but her hand's drifted back to her belt. "You feel that?"

"Yeah."

"That's not city permitting."

No kidding. Permitting doesn't usually carry weapons that scrape when they move.

The gate rattles again. Harder. I don't have a lock on it anymore. I don't think I ever did. The whole entryway's more of a suggestion than a barrier. If they want in, they're coming in.

"You gonna open it?" Ivy asks.

I don't get a chance to answer.