It made no f*****g sense at all, but it was everything Lyle could do not to start chuckling. He felt high as a kite. Stoned out of his tree, in fact, and he had to imagine that if he gave himself ten seconds to think over things, he’d probably be worried about why that might be. When things like toxic gas and poisonous insects began to tumble through his head, Lyle pushed them away. Door first. He could run later.
He squeezed the handle. He tugged the door against the frame. He rattled it. He listened to the door react to every twist and shudder he forced on it. Though the door itself was metal and the locking mechanisms probably as old as time itself (they don’t make them like they used to, let me tell you), the frame and the locks had to be seated in one of two things: concrete or plast
