QUANTUM FLOORPLAN
Jess slammed the door shut almost before I had gotten all the way in the apartment. She threw her back against the polished wood, sweat standing out on her forehead and forearms.
“Jess, relax,” I said, “the building has a quantum floor plan. The Pastors have no idea how to get here let alone how to actually see the door.”
“What the Pastors do have, Alfie, is faith. And they have bucketsful. If they believe hard enough, no amount of clever quantum physics can stop them.”
I smirked but the sound of chanting coming down the hall cut off my witty remark. Instead, I grabbed Jess’ hand, turned toward the window, and leapt shoulder-first. We hit the sand on a beach somewhere in Greece. I rolled to my feet, the killswitch in my hand, and thumbed it. The Pastor that was climbing through after us was sliced in half as the connection between my multi-million dollar luxury apartment in LA and the five-star hotel window whose view I had enjoyed for six years was severed.