"Well," he started, glancing up at the ceiling as though that's where he'd find the answer. "I wasn't about to let you know where I live just so you could catch up on Facebook. A man needs his privacy." He smiled and tapped the barrel of the gun against his temple. "Remember?"

He trained the gun back on her and looked her up and down. The hardware on her arms wasn't exactly a sensible fashion statement, but neither was purple pinstripe.

"The generator's over there. Get that thing spinning and we have ourselves a working computer."