"Last Exit to Bonchester!" cried Crystal, the spinning tyres of her Jeep sending gravel flying as she roared towards the village, then braked hard, throwing her passengers round like rag dolls, before finally lurching to a stop outside the Old Manse, temporary home of the two Americans: "c'mon in, last one's a sissy!" and she ran down the short path and flung herself inside, already poring drinks before the others trooped in: "you know," she said to Jazz and Teri, handing them large measures of Laphroaig Single Malt, it felt like manumission when we emerged from The Cavern after the landing, and found ourselves here and no longer the sex slaves of that monster – somehow, our own mentalese had kept us psychologically intact, but if his plan had worked and we were still on Prince Edward Island, I think we would have cracked, don't you, Flora?" and Flora, carefully positioning herself on a large bean-bag, without spilling her drink, looked at Teri and Jasmine: "you have no idea. . . . .the only thing I had left, inside my head, were the lyrics of I Will Survive, but eventually, when you can see no way out, and death looks like the best, the only, alternative, if Crystal hadn't been there, I wouldn't be here now!" and Crystal pointed to a Mexican calavera skull, painted in hot, vibrant colours: "the Minister gave us that – she's a sweetie, she's in the New Manse, round the other side of the Church – and naturally we call it Parlane and it's going to be buried with him, or cremated, whatever we decide," and Flora hissed: "or put alive into a pit of quicklime, that's currently my favoured option," and Crystal said: "we are going to kill him, not just for ourselves, but all his other victims over hundreds of years, and we're not going to make it quick and painless, we could easily have shot him from where we met you, or even hit the cottage with a rocket from one of the drones – oh yeah, we have that capability – but there are probably other innocents in that house, the guys are monitoring it from the van and once they've identified everyone there and we know exactly who's who and can pinpoint them in the schematics of Mother Kelly's. . . . .what the fuck d'you make of that Ochan'toshan creep? don't he give you the willies?" and they all laughed, glad to release the tension which had been building since they first met.