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Whatever the hell that means.

I pull mine on over my clothes, but when I reach for the zipper, I can't get it all the way up.

“Hold on.”

Jude steps behind me and gathers my hair, moving it over my shoulder before pulling the zipper the rest of the way up. Then he takes the helmet from my hands, settles it over my head and pushes the visor down.

“Ready?”

I look at him through the visor. “No.”

His mouth twitches. “Good enough.”

Tim opens a cabinet along the wall.

I stare.

Oh.

Well.

Apparently murder is encouraged here.

There are baseball bats, crowbars, mallets and sledgehammers lined up inside, all in different sizes and weights.

Tim gestures toward them. “Pick your weapon.”

I scan the collection.

Then I see it.

A pink baseball bat.

I take it from the rack and test the weight in my hands.

Jude smirks. “Good choice.”

“I have excellent taste.”

“So I've heard.”

I glance at him. Was that a joke?

Before I can decide, Tim walks toward a heavy door at the end of the room. He unlocks it, then looks at Jude.

“Like I said, I managed to get most of what was on the list.”

There it is again.

The list.

Jude nods once, and my stomach suddenly feels strange.

Tim opens the door.

I walk inside.

And stop.