“Be my guest because I'm freaking stuck here.” Kevin kicks the leg of the table in frustration with his combat boots. He can't get out of Jersey without one of Lee's doors. Or a bus. “They had riot gear and body armour and shit, I don't know why there were so many. And —” He pauses while his texting ringtone goes off, pulling his battered cheap phone from his pocket and checking it. His eyes go wide. “Something's up. Cops're raiding all the bars? Or something?”