Effie walked out of the room, her mind focused on only one thing.

He will not die.

The thought repeated with every step she took. He. Step. Will. Step. Not. Step. Die. Step.

She had somehow managed to get him over her shoulder, somehow found her way out of the maze the warehouse had become. The dogs that had threatened them on the way in were silent as she left, their presence not even registering on her as she stumbled through the empty hallways. Had they been there? Had they slunk away to attend their new master as she suffered another attack of insanity? Had she just not seen them, her vision too focused on each step as she tried to get them out of that deserted hell?

It was so hard to carry Mark. He was heavier than anything she had ever tried to lift before, let alone move. And he was big, very big to her petite. The weight of him bowed her back, but losing only a couple inches of her height had his hands dragging on the ground behind her. She could feel it after every few steps, her posture slipping enough that she began to abrade his knuckles once more. Every time it happened she wanted to scream in frustration, her spine stiffening with the burst of anger. Then everything would be okay, he wouldn't be dragging behind her. He would be fine.

But then the anger would be spent and his weight would drag her down again, starting the cycle anew. It stole into her mind, possessing her thoughts. If she could get him to the hospital, if she could keep his hands off the ground, if she could just keep going, then Mark would be ok. Everything was going to be fine.

He will not die.

Walking out into the bright light of the suns nearly blinded her and did cause her to stumble. She fought gravity to keep from dropping Mark and the struggle was enough to keep her from going into even deeper confusion as her mind faced a new shock. How could it still be day? How could it still be the same day, the same hour as it was when they entered? The consistency of the day seemed to mock her.

Her feet slowed as her mind raced to process the concept that everything could change for her and other people's lives could be untouched. Anne was dead, Mark… would not die. Ace was behind her, gloating over her victory, over the bodies of her friends, and other people would never know.

She closed her eyes for a moment while her mind struggled to keep working. How could this be? How could her entire world be destroyed and no one else even know? Or care? She surrendered to the surreal, stopped trying to make sense of what had happened.

It had. It was horrible, awful, and beyond what she could comprehend. Accepting that, she opened her eyes and forced her pace to quicken. She shifted Mark's body higher on her shoulder and straightened her spine once more.

She had to get to a hospital. Mark will not die, not so long as she could keep walking towards that goal. She would get him to a hospital, and they would make him better, and then she could think about what had happened back there.

It seemed easier to carry him now. Maybe it was because she was no longer fighting to understand, or maybe it was because she had managed to escape the warehouse. The dark of the halls seemed to have been clutching at her, trying to keep her from leaving but the light of the suns gave her energy.

Regardless, she didn't have much farther to travel before she met the first person retracing the path that Knives had taken. Anne's blood had left a clear trail back to the warehouse. A brave man had taken in the blank look of despair on Knives' face and been struck with the urge to know what had happened, to see if anyone was left behind, to see if he could help of if he needed to call the sheriff's office.

When he saw Effie he was literally stunned, his need to know what had happened superseded by the ludicrously sad picture before him. The small woman was carrying the much larger man as if he was hardly any burden at all. He took in the bandages that were wrapped around her burden's legs, the blood on her hands and smeared on her face, the fey look in the eyes that seemed to not even see him as she passed by.

"Hey there," he said a bit more loudly than he intended, broken out of his stupor as he jogged a couple steps to fall in beside her. "Do you need some help?"

Her head turned slowly, so very slowly as her mind processed first his presence and then his words. "Help?" she repeated, trying to understand the word. After a moment she gave up and looked ahead of her again. "He will not die," she said slowly.

He looked at her, then at Mark, then at her again. Realizing that she was not entirely focused on the present world he tried a different tack. "You're going to a hospital, right? Let me go call an ambulance. He needs an ambulance, ok?"

She turned her head again, her eyes fogged as she tried to comprehend. "I can't stop. I have to get him to a hospital."

"A hospital, yes, a hospital," he said, glad to have gotten through to her. Sort of. "The ambulance can get there faster. Just get him to that store over there, and we'll call an ambulance. The ambulance will get him there faster than you can."

"Ambulance?"

"Yes." He ducked behind her and grabbed her free arm to gently steer her to the store. "They'll be faster. I promise."

"He will not die," she protested.

"No," he assured her. "He'll be fine. Ambulance to hospital." They reached the store and he gently took Mark off her shoulder before dashing into the store and using their phone.

Effie found herself on the ground next to him. She shifted on the sidewalk until she could lay his head in her lap, her hands smoothing the hair on his forehead. "You will not die," she whispered, over and over again until the ambulance came, heedless of the crowd that formed around them.