"This works better and doesn't take the door down in case you need it," Mort said as he got the snap gun together and worked the pick and tensioner into the lock with his flashlight cradled in the crook of his neck. "Trust me, you ever see a military surplus store, try checking it for one of these babies," he added, nodding at the steel gun in his hand. "Nine times out of ten, a couple pulls will get you in most locks."
He wasn't sure why he was talking so much, explaining his tools and all. Maybe it was how young the kid looked. Kind of reminded him of his boy. His brow furrowed slightly as his thoughts drifted to Duncan, wondering yet again if he was okay. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. There was no way he could know about Duncan and he knew from long experience over the last couple years that the more he thought about him, the more likely he was to start thinking the worst. Or, God forbid, having that awful dream of coming face to face with him as one of those shuffling bastards outside again.
"Of course," he said, popping the lock with the gun and tensioner, "problem is, I got no idea what's on the other side of this door, either. So you might want to get ready for a nasty surprise just in case."