“Get ready,” I said.
“I’m awake,” came a voice, though it was impossible to tell exactly where from.
“Fine,” said Atticus. “Hershel, in 30 seconds, I want you to place your site on the head of ... that little girl, right there.” He gestured at a storefront on our right side—Simply Seattle. “Green coat, last one on the end, right next to the display window. Copy that there, Chief?”
The man didn’t hesitate. “Twenty-nine! 28! 27 ...”
I toggled the loudspeaker myself. “We’re coming out,” I said, suddenly, and glanced at Sam. “We’re trying to figure out how.”
There was a silence as Atticus seemed to think about this.
At last, he said, “Well, how complicated could it be? Just open the door. Hershel, keep counting ...”
“Twenty-three, 22, 21 ...”
“It’s not that simple,” I hurried to say, “
