Ryan turned, ran back the way he had come. An old man was in the corridor, blinking.
“I’ve phoned the police,” he said.
“Get back inside,” Ryan told him. “Lock the door.”
The old man nodded, shuffled out of the corridor, and then Valkyrie came crashing through the wall of his apartment in a shower of broken plaster and chipboard. The old man howled in shock, ran past Ryan, sprinting round the corner with surprising agility. Valkyrie was on the floor in a cloud of dust, groaning and trying to get up. Obloquy climbed through the broken wall after her and saw Ryan.