"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!"
"Hey, Quinn," I say as I pop the tommy gun's clip and reload. "I've been looking for you."
"Liar."
I ignore her, swallow the lump that's formed in my throat, and look around at our surroundings. The door that I came through is still there but closed, and there's no wall surrounding it. It's simply standing free with nothing around or behind it. The sky above is filled with stars that just barely illuminate the scene. Instead of relatively flat metal, the ground is composed of dirt, grass, and rocks. Off to my right in the near distance, I can see an edge of asphalt cut off by a wall of darkness beyond. A metal sign post sticks out of the ground, dried blood coating the area where there isn't a sign.
I don't see the SUV anywhere, but I know where we are. Where we're supposed to be. I turn my attention back to Quinn, who is standing several yards away with her arms crossed and face screwed up with anger and impatience. She looks just like she did before all this happened, untouched by the ravages of Silent Hill. We must look like quite the pair out here, the perfect princess in her nice clean clothes and the ragged foot soldier fresh from the war.
Just looking at her makes me feel tired. Where I had imagined before that I could feel the weight of all my gear pressing down on me, now I really can. An entire world's worth of weariness settles around my head, my shoulders, pulling my limbs down as sleep threatens to overtake me. How long have I been at this? Hours? Days? Years? I try to remember having done anything other than trudge from one horror to another. It's so very very hard all of a sudden, and seeing Quinn looking as if she's just stepped out of the salon isn't helping matters any.
But I can't let it get to me. Can't let her words in. I've finally found her after all the searching and fighting and running, and I know what I have to do.
"No," I say. "I'm not lying. I'm here for you, Quinn. I'm here to bring you home."
She shakes her head, perfect lips curling up in disdain. "No," she snarls. "Bullshit! You killed me, Daria! You killed me, and then you left me!"
"That's not how it happened," I tell her. I swing my gun around to rest and hold my hand out to her as I take a step forward. "I'm not a killer. It was an accident. You have to believe me."
"I don't have to believe anything you say!" she screams, stepping back, retreating from me. "Big brainy Daria, thinks she's so smart, thinks she knows everything, thinks she's always right! But you're wrong! I died, and it's all your fault, and there's nothing you can say or do that will change that!"
"No." I take another step, she retreats again. "I pulled you from the wreck-"
"Do you know how much damage you can do moving an injured person?" Quinn asks nastily. "Of course you do, you're the Brain. But you did it anyway! Murderer."
I stop. She stops, then lets out a dark chuckle as she sees the look of horror pass over my face.
"It wasn't enough that you killed Mom and Dad. You had to take me with them. You always hated us, didn't you, Daria?" The tables have turned, and I back away as she begins to advance on me. "You thought you were better than us. That Dad was an idiot, that Mom was a bitch, and you resented me! You were jealous of my looks, my popularity, the fact that I actually lived my life instead of being cooped up inside my own bitter little shell like you! Well how does it feel, Daria? How does it feel now that you've gotten rid of us?"
She licks her lips obscenely as she runs her hands up and down her hips and continues to press in on me, almost towering over me with her presence. "I bet it feels good, doesn't it?" she continues. "No one left to ignore you, or push you around, or make you feel bad about yourself. You're all alone now, just like you always wanted. You even left Jane behind, didn't you? Poor ol' Janey. Your only real friend in the world and you ditched her. Maybe you should have killed her, too, just to make sure she stayed gone."
"No," I say again, but it lacks force. Did I hate them so much? Did I do all those things?
I can't think. I can't focus. I can feel my eyes rolling around in their sockets, but I'm not seeing anything through them. My brain feels like it's in a fog all of a sudden, my confidence dropping like a stone in a still pond. She's doing this to me, she's making me forget . . .
"NO!" I bellow. Reaching out, I plant both hands on Quinn's shoulders and push her back, nearly toppling her over onto her ass. "No, dammit," I growl at her. "I tried to save you. I tried. And it was an accident. I couldn't have planned the crash or seen it coming. Just because I lived doesn't mean everyone else dying is my fault! I am not a killer!"
Quinn wipes at her shirt where I touched her as if I had tried to give her an infectious disease. Her green eyes are cold as she sneers at me and says, "You are. You killed me, Daria. And now you're going to pay."
Lifting her hands to her sides, palms up, she takes a few steps away from me and then lifts up in the air a few inches. The darkness surrounding us seems to become even darker as a yellow glow begins to encircle her like a heavy mist, swirling about her form. I hold up my hand to block my eyes from the intense light, then jerk around in surprise as a tearing, grinding noise comes from all around us.
It shouldn't be such a shock, of course, given everything else I've seen this far, but suddenly finding one's self standing in the middle of an arena marked off by sharp metal spikes exploding out of the ground is still a bit disconcerting. One of the spikes comes up straight through the door behind me, taking even that slim avenue of escape away from me. It looks like it's just me and Quinn now, and she-
The cellphone in my pocket screams to life for the first time since I left the room of a thousand monsters. My reaction is pure instinct at this point as I fling myself to the side, not even bothering to check which direction the attack might be coming from. Even as I cover my head with my arms, however, I see a bright light shoot right through where I had been standing. An intense heat washes over me as it passes, letting me know that if I hadn't dodged, I would be crispy fried Daria right now.
I land roughly on the ground but only take a second to recover before I start scrambling away. Looking over I can see Quinn still floating there, holding her finger and thumb out like a pistol. With a malicious grin that looks frighteningly out of place, she pulls her finger up to her mouth and blows on it like she's clearing the smoke from a gun barrel. Her eyes shift over to me and I can feel the phone begin to shake again as she lines up for another shot.
Amazing. With the wreath of light and her flawless features, Quinn looks just like an angel. But the look on her face is still pure devil. She's not fooling around. She truly means to kill me, even though I came all this way just to save her.
How's that for justice.
But there's not time to reflect on the unfair nature of the universe. I dig my feet into the ground and start to take a zig-zagging course around her in an attempt to throw her aim off, using the phone's vibrations to gauge which way to duck.
Finally tired of waiting for me to stop, Quinn pulls up a ball of light on the tip of her finger and lets loose, the discharge sounding like a massive firework going off. I arch my body to one side, but the ball passes by a little too close for comfort anyway, searing me as it passes a mere foot from me. My hair and clothes begin to smoke and their singed smell fills my nose. I have little doubt that I now have an impromptu sunburn on my ear, which is chattering at the pain centers of my brain loud enough to block almost everything else out.
I keep running, but I'm already starting to see the futility in this course of action. I can't keep dodging her attacks forever, and she's blocked off any way of getting away from her. I hate it, hate that I've come here on a rescue mission only for it to degenerate into a fight, but if it's the only way I can get out of here without losing my life or worse, then I don't have much choice. I reach under my shoulder and pull out my pistol.
Another light ball tears by me before I get a chance to stop, grasp the gun in both hands, and shoot. Quinn's face drops in surprise when she notices the three bullets coming her way even as my own heart drops into my stomach.
Just inches away from piercing Quinn's body, the bullets dissolve with a hissing sound, turning into harmless smoke and blowing away.
Quinn flashes me a wicked smile of triumph before she's suddenly overtaken by insane fury. "YOU SHOT AT ME!" she screams, her shrill voice echoing painfully in my ears. "Wasn't it enough to kill me out there? You have to kill me in here as well? You rotten bitch!"
Crap.
She holds both hands up and starts building a ball far larger than any previous. Her screams peal through the night as she pours all of her rage into the deadly light. I turn to run, but she's too fast and the ball shoots away from her, turning the grass black as it passes over. I twist in a last ditch effort to get out of the way, but it catches me in the side, lifts me in the air, and suddenly I'm back in the SUV again, spinning through the night in pain and confusion and terror.
I hit the ground and start kicking my legs, doing anything I can to try and get away from the fire that my left arm has become. I scream and I kick and I roll around, but I can't put it out no matter how hard I try. An endless age of pure pain drives through me, subsiding in degrees measured in eons.
Finally, I come back to myself and stand up, holding my smouldering arm in my right hand. I watch as nerveless fingers twitch at the end of my charred wrist brace, but I can't feel them or anything else below my elbow. My jacket sleeve is burnt black, and the skin of my hand looks much the same. I pant, ragged and wheezing as I finally tear my good hand away to grab a Health Drink from my backpack. Fortunately it looks like the attack took a lot out of Quinn, so I have some time to open the drink one-handed and down a few quick gulps.
Quinn glares at me as she too tries to catch her breath. But though she looks a little worn out, I'm not fooled. Her aura is no less bright than before. She has energy to last while I only have four drinks left after this. Time for another plan.
The wriggling worms of healing juices invade my arm, and the ensuing pins and needles are almost enough to make me cry out in pain again. I grit my teeth together and pick up my dropped pistol, not surprised to find the metal warm to the touch. As much as I wish it were otherwise, it and probably all of my other guns are useless at this point. Trying to shoot through her heat shield is just a waste of ammunition.
But all that leaves me with is the tire iron, baseball bat, and katana, and trying to go toe to toe with that melting heat doesn't seem like the best plan to me. Think, Daria, think!
No time left to think. Quinn sucks in a huge breath and lets it out explosively, ready for the next round. The phone tries to warn me of another impending attack, but I don't really need it this time. I can easily see the ball building up with my own eyes. Without any more obvious options, I launch myself into a sprint, the ball burning behind me to splash against the metal fence in a burst of heat and light.
Hey, wait a second.
I skid to a stop and reach back to pull out my bat. This is probably the stupidest thing I've done yet, but what the hell. If anyone else has any bright ideas, now's the time to speak up.
Quinn shakes her head at me almost pityingly when she sees me stop, bend at the knee, and pull the bat back over my shoulder. With a casual grace, she shoots her latest ball of light my direction and awaits my inevitable fiery death. The ball bears down on me, feeling like a furnace thrown by giant and almost as blinding as the sun itself. I hold my position even as my phone becomes more and more insistent that this is a bad idea. Then, just as I'm about to light up the night as a Daria torch, I take a swing.
The bat connects with the light as if it's a solid thing. Oddly enough, even though so many other laws of physics were just broken by this simple act, Newton's third law still takes full effect, shooting the ball straight back where it came from.
I see Quinn's expression turn to horror. She waves her hands back and forth as if she can persuade the ball from its course with simple gestures, but if anything she's merely fanning the flames. Her scream reaches a crescendo just as it connects and then gets drowned out by the sound of an inferno being unleashed, the rush of a back draft, the roar of an explosion. I move to duck and cover but instead get flung back by the concussive wall of air that rushes out to greet me.
It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust as the darkness presses in even closer, lit only by a few small grass fires here and there in the center of the arena. I hold my bat up and find that it's glowing slightly red at the tip itself. That was one hell of a fastball.
Gripping the bat firmly in both hands, I move in cautiously amongst the fires. Over the crackling of dry grass releasing what little moisture it holds I can hear crying. I follow it to its source, a dark figure curled up around its knees, face hidden. Despite the explosion that had been centered directly on her and her constant sobbing, Quinn shows up in the beam of my flashlight looking none the worse for wear.
"Quinn?"
The crying stops, followed by a wet sucking noise as she tries to clear her nose in a very unladylike manner. "Come to finish me off?" she asks sourly.
"Quinn, you have to believe me," I tell her with a sigh. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want my sister back. I know she's somewhere in there, if all this . . . this shit that Silent Hill has glued to you would just come off."
"There is no shit," she snarls. "Silent Hill doesn't put anything there that wasn't already there! This is me! This is Quinn!"
She's standing up now and hunching her shoulders. She looks hard, menacing. I step back and hold up my weapon just in case.
"Your weapons are pathetic! You are pathetic, and you know it! That's why you hide behind your books and your words! And now you're hiding behind your stupid little bat! Well, you can't be rid of your guilt that easily, Daria. I'm here to stay, and I'm gonna make damn sure you are too!"
Her body bulges at the seams. Muscles begin to pop out of nowhere as her arms and legs lengthen, causing her clothes to strain against the added mass before tearing apart completely. Metal pushes its way through her collarbones and begins to string out like taffy pulled by invisible wires. Her angelic guise has dropped completely, revealing the monster within and without, and she's halfway through the transformation when I realize exactly what she's turning into.
The metal continues to pour out of her body and molds itself into two sections hanging from her chest and her back. Then, with a resounding clang they snap shut like a bear trap, blocking off that slasher grin and the insane eyes that never left mine for an instant. She stumbles for a second, but by then her body has become so strong that she easily regains her balance. Two lights in the chest snap on, cutting through the night, and I can hear the sound of an engine coming from deep within her. She reaches one clawed hand out, and a new spike of metal splits through the ground, placing its tapered end in her grasp. She pulls with all her might and uproots a club made of metal slag. A scream, primal and disturbing, echoes in the metal case covering her head and upper body.
Once again I stand before the thing from the gym. The thing that chased me away from the police station. A twisted form of my sister crafted to strike complete and utter fear in my heart.
It's still working.
I look at my bat then up at the pillar of metal towering over me. This hardly seems like a fair fight, so without a moment's hesitation I turn and I run. The problem here is, I don't have the running space that I did before. There's no alleyway to run through, and the twisted sister takes up a whole lot more room than the angel Quinn. So I'm kind of fucked, aren't I?
The phone buzzes as the club slams down behind me. "I know!" I yell at it. "I know!"
I arc around, following the edge of the circle and trying to come up with a plan at least half as brilliant as my last. The phone's warnings suddenly become sharper, so I push my heels into the ground and come to a stop a mere second before the club comes down again, this time in front of me. I notice in that moment that the club has buried itself partway into the ground, and as I jump over it in order to keep some of my forward momentum, I also notice that the twisted sister has to put some effort into lifting it back up again.
No time for perfect aiming, so I pull my tommy gun around as I continue running. With a few semi-precise shots, I manage to crack both lights and send the monster to its knees. The club, which had been a few feet up in the air, drops back down into the depression with a solid thud. I take the time to stop now and throw a few more bullets the monster's way, but annoyingly they simply bounce off the skin and metal. I curse as the lights begin to grow back and the beast regains its feet.
It's another puzzle, I realize as I go back to running. Another fucking puzzle! I hate these gahdamned puzzles!
But fine! Fine! I'll just put the twisted sister on her knees like so wait not like that NOT LIKE THA-
"YEEEAAAAAAARRRRGH!"
I only got a couple of shots off before she managed to get her club up and swing it to the side, swatting me like a fly. I think something's broken, but my head is currently swimming too damn much for me to tell exactly what it is. The phone buzzes and I dodge blindly, barely getting out of the way in time.
Another drink, I need another drink, but as I try to pull one out of my backpack I realize that the broken thing is my upper right arm. Lucky the tommy gun is on a strap or I would have lost it. I shake my head to try to clear it, then I have to dodge another grand slam, and both actions make my arm burn with pain before going disturbingly numb along one side. But that's okay, 'cause now I've got a Health Drink in my left hand even though I'm not entirely certain how it got there because of the concussion I'm just dimly becoming aware of that I have in my head.
Ignore it, drink, that's all that's important. Tingly sensation in my arm and my head, making things clearer and more defined.
That club is getting to be a real bitch. More out of spite than out of having any real idea of what I'm doing, I decide to do something about that. The last of the tommy gun's current magazine sends her to her knees once more. I push the gun around and quickly pull out my katana. With a rebel yell of supreme pissed-off-edness, I leap toward the club with the blade held high and bring it down in a shining arc.
To my complete and utter surprise, it cuts straight trough, as easily as it sliced through the air. I hit the thick portion of the club, however, meaning all I really did was put a nice little notch in the bastard.
But you know what? That's okay. I can work with this. New plan firmly in hand, I sheathe my sword, dodge another attack as I pull out my shotgun, and then I run up nice and close to the twisted sister to let loose two quick shots.
"Hahahahaha!" I cackle maniacally as she goes down. Not sure where that came from. Feels kinda good, though.
I switch back to the katana and in three rapid chops, I've severed the main bulk of the club. The twisted sister was just pulling up on it at the time, and the sudden loss of resistance sends her staggering back with only a small bit of slag in her hands. Her anger is quick, vocal, and very very loud.
"I took away your toy, bitch!" I yell at her. "Now give me back my sister!"
She backhands me, sending me to the ground and letting me know what she thinks of my demands. Blood trickles from the side of my mouth where my lip is split, and as I rub my jaw I swear it feels just a little bit looser than it did before. She has one hell of a pimpslap, I'll give her that.
I roll to the side just in time to avoid having my spleen stomped out of me, then twirl to an upright position and let loose with the contents of my shotgun. Blood mists the air as two of three of the pellet sprays either hit or graze flesh, and even the one that hit mostly metal seems to have actually scored the paint job. The twisted sister screams in agony as her invulnerability is proven to have worn off with the loss of her weapon, but I get the feeling she's not nearly done with me yet.
Even without the club, she moves slowly as she swipes at me with both arms, trying to catch me in a bear hug. I turn and easily outdistance her as I run to the other side of the arena where I stop to switch out shot for tommy. A new magazine gets popped into the gun and I get ready unleash it on the monster when I find that the monster has unleashed a surprisingly fast charge on me. It's only thanks to the cellphone's warning that I manage to step to the side, but she still clips my shoulder on the way past and knocks me reeling.
She clangs her head like a gong on the wall of spikes and does the same dance of dizziness as me for a bit. I luckily recover first and run over to the other side of the circle to crack open another Health Drink. My injuries at this point are still fairly light, but if she does that charging thing again I need all the dammit here she comes!
I get away clean this time, except that I drop the can in my hand, spilling the other half of the drink inside on the ground. Without giving the wasted heal a second thought, I hold up the tommy gun and hose down her back with the entire contents. Blood flies through the air, but after recovering from hitting the wall, the beast is still just as spry as before. My right jacket sleeve gets torn by her claws as I spin away from the attack.
Running backwards from her, I go for another tommy gun magazine only to realize I just used up the last one. Well isn't that just swell! I undo one of the fastners on the gun's shoulder strap and toss it in the twisted sister's path as I turn to run away at full speed. The obstacle doesn't slow her down one bit, and the next charge is just as sudden as the last, almost catching me off guard.
I use her disorientation this time to reload my shotgun, then pound three shells into her front before she reaches down, snatches the gun out of my hands, and tosses it over the spike wall.
"Gahdam-" I get out just before being slapped full across the face again. This time when the charge comes, I'm still on my back and she runs straight over one of my legs and oh look at that the bandages have come apart a little and I can see something white and red sticking out of the skin and shit oh shit where's another Health Drink fuck fuck fuck it doesn't hurt yet I think I'm in shock please let me get the drink down before it starts to hurt and "AAAAAAAAAARRRAAAAAAHHH!"
I gulp at the drink like a madwoman and get to my feet as soon as I'm sure both of them will sustain my weight without sending white-hot splinters up my shin and thigh. Time to take stock, Morgendorffer. You've got one Health Drink left. You're out of bullets for the tommy gun, and the shotgun is now forever out of your reach. The twisted sister is starting to recover from her last charge and is now looking your way like you owe her money.
What do you do?
You pull out your pistol, put your head between your knees, and kiss your ass goodbye.
I don't bother trying to back away from her this time. I'm obviously only doing about fifty-fifty with the charges, and even if I knock her silly again, what's that going to do? All I've got is this pathetic pistol and a handful of melee weapons. Even if the katana can cut through time and space itself, the second I get within range to do it I'll be smashed to pieces. So I stand my ground, aim my little pop gun, and start shooting the bitch in the gut.
She comes at me just like before, seemingly without pain and definitely without stopping. She's several yards away and picking up speed even as the wounds already lacing her skin are joined by new ones. I shoot and shoot and shoot until the clip runs out, then I reload and shoot some more.
So this is it. I start to laugh again as I keep firing, but there's no maniacal edge to it. This is simply the sad laughter of a woman who knows that she's lost. That she's about to die. I can feel tears start to run down my grime-streaked face.
I'm sorry, Quinn. I tried to save you.
I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I hope that wherever you are, you know that even though I never said it that much, I really did love you both.
I'm sorry, Jane. I guess you're gonna be spending your college years in Boston without me. It looks like I'm about to become a permenant resident of the town called Silent Hill.
And most of all, I'm sorry, Daria. I-
The twisted sister trips and goes down on one knee. Without really even thinking about it, I'm still pulling the trigger, pelting her torso with bullet after bullet. She puts her hand up to her belly, and one of the fingers gets blasted off, caught in the line of fire. I hear the clip run dry as the slide pops back and stays there, but I still try to pull the unresponsive trigger anyway as I watch the monster shudder, topple, and then lie completely still.
I stand and stare at the fallen behemoth. I'm not sure, but . . . I think I just won.
Heh.
"I won," I say, testing the words on my lips. They sound strangely hollow, and I sure as hell don't feel like celebrating. I drop the spent pistol and fight to keep my balance. Before I can give up the fight and simply drop to the ground, though, I hear a sound coming from the twisted sister and come to immediate attention.
Of course I didn't win. I just wore her down until she had to take on yet another form. A never-ending supply of infinite forms for the most tenacious of my mental monsters, ready to torment me for an eternity. Except I can't last an eternity. Even if I gathered up what's left of my meager resources, I would only last a few minutes at best. I can't. I just-
"Help!"
Okay. That sure as hell doesn't sound like the new, terrible form of a deadly adversary. My jaw drops as I quickly scramble forward, gripping at the seams of the twisted sister's metal mask with my fingertips. All fears of a continued fight have been washed away by that single muffled word, only to be replaced by a whole new set of fears as the edges of the metal tear at my fingertips and I accomplish nothing more than hurting myself with a futile gesture.
A flash of lucidity hits me as I press my fingers against my jacket to staunch the bleeding. As quickly as I can manage, I throw off my backpack and reach in to pull out my old friend, the tire iron. Working smarter, not harder, I jam the prying end of the iron into the seam, slam it home further with the heel of my hand, and then put all my weight into levering it down.
The metal squawks in protest as I slowly, jerkily force it open. The movement and voice inside fall silent as I work, which only sends me into a greater frenzy to accomplish my task. With adrenaline soaked strength I give one final push that cracks the shell open wide enough that I can get my boots and hands on either side and pry it the rest of the way like a human jaws of life.
Lying there, curled up in a ball and shivering with fright, is Quinn.
"Hey," I say softly. "Hey, Quinn, it's okay. It's me. Daria."
She doesn't respond, so I grab up my last Health Drink and crawl in with her. When I touch her shoulder she twitches away, but after a little cajoling I manage to get her to sit up a little. Her eyes are shut tight and she won't even look at me, which cuts me right to the heart. What has this place done to her? What have I done to her?
It's time to start setting things right. I crack open the drink and tell her, "Sorry about the taste, Quinn. But it's good for what ails you."
I put the can to her lips, and at first it seems like she's going to refuse to drink. After a moment however, her lips open and she takes a few tentative sips.
Even that little bit has an immediate effect. Her shivering begins to subside and she starts to take larger gulps of the drink as she sits up on her own. Finally, her eyes pop open and she turns her head to splutter and cough, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.
"Oh my gawd," she says with disgust. "What is that stuff, Daria? It tastes like hamburger grease! I-"
She stops suddenly and looks around in shock. " . . . Daria?"
"Yah, sis. It's me."
I smile at her. Not my normal Mona Lisa, but a full, open smile that she watches in wonder before throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me like I was the last life preserver on the entire ocean.
"Oh God Daria it's been so terrible there were these things and I saw them doing all these terrible things and I wanted to stop them but I couldn't and everything was so dark and scary and I just wanted to go home and this voice kept saying these awful things about you and Mom and Dad and all my friends and I don't understand what's going on at all!"
"It's okay," I tell her as I pat her gently on the back. "You're safe now. It's almost over. Isn't that right, Mordecai?"
Quinn gasps in surprise as she notices the white-haired man standing behind me. I can almost sense him rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously as he says, "Yes, Miss Morgendorffer, it would certainly seem that way. And I do apologize . . . I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything."
"No, you're fine," I say as I stand up and help Quinn out of the casing. "Sis, this is Mordecai Kingsley. He helped me find you."
"A pleasure to meet you, my dear," Mordecai says as he dips into a generous bow, takes Quinn's hand, and gently kisses her knuckles. Quinn, being Quinn, is immediately set at ease by this display of dashing gentlemanly conduct.
"Oh, you," she says with a giggle. "And . . . thanks."
"Not at all!"
"So, what brings you out to my little corner of hell?" I ask conversationally as I look around a the scarred battleground.
He gives me a lopsided smile as he digs through one of the pockets on his waistcoat. "Well now, as you said, your ordeal is indeed almost over," he replies, "and as you may remember, I once said that I could give you the key . . . "
With a small flourish, he pulls a simple metal key out of his pocket and holds it out to me. Slowly I reach out and take it, almost feeling as if taking it too quickly or handling it too roughly might break it, tearing it asunder like the fragile wings of a butterfly. I flip it over to let it rest in the palm of my hand then look back up at him.
"Thank you," I say gravely. Then, after a moment's thought, "So hey, I've been thinking. Exactly how many people have you actually saved from this place, anyway?"
"Including you?" he replies, rolling his eyes around in a comical parody of deep thought. "Exactly . . . one." His eyebrows pop upward a millimeter and he looks over at Quinn, adding, "Or perhaps, make that two. But, my dear ladies, I'm afraid I may not have quite saved you just yet. After all, though I did give you the key-"
"-only I can find the door," I finish. So stupid, maybe even cliche, but I turn to one side anyway and find that sure enough, there's a door standing there where there hadn't been one before. And considering just how ready I am to get the heck out of here, I'm ready to take any cliche in a storm.
"Thank you so much, Mordecai!" Quinn tells him, standing on her tiptoes to give him a small peck on the cheek. "Good luck helping other guys!"
Mordecai puts a hand on his cheek and smiles at us as we walk away from him. "And a good journey to you, Miss Morgendorffer!" he calls out to us. "I hope you finally find the peace you seek!"
As Quinn and I step up to the door, hand in hand, I feel that yah, maybe - just maybe - that's finally possible. I could do with some peace.
"Ready to go, sis?" I ask.
Quinn nods firmly. "Ready!" she says. "And, Daria . . . thank you for coming for me."
"Every time."
I put the key in the lock, turn it, and then open the door as bright light spills out and surrounds us on all sides.
