Celty's warning was a shout and a curse before a spoon came hurtling her way. No one was supposed to be using the showers, it was the excruciatingly long middle of the day where it generally felt lucky if you didn't fall into a numb stupor, a kind of nightmare siesta hour, and not the time where Tony should have been intruding on anyone in his effort to solve this water problem. Or dig their way out of here.

And he could have handled a whole person, with grace, or probably too much flirting for someone in such a vulnerable position to be entirely comfortable with, but he was in no way prepared to encounter most of a person. His first hysterical instinct was that this place was also haunted, great, then more hysterical yet, that there were dismembering death traps that were starting to go off to keep things lively during the nightmare-siesta, and by then he had already thrown his tools and had to observe that this body was solid, and also not bleeding. He stared at his spoon on the wet floor, which had not helped at all.