Escape to Safety

The burning cocoon nest blazed ever more fiercely. Thick smoke spiraled upward with the mist, and a stench ten times more disgusting than burning protein shot straight into their heads.

The two above coughed from the fumes, but still had to force themselves to stay alert and pick off each of the Hollow Men emerging below.

"Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!" Nick knew perfectly well this was no time to conserve ammunition. He forced his red, swollen eyes wide open and squeezed the trigger desperately to his left, his right, and below.

Yet Hollow Men kept emerging from the smoke in ever greater numbers, as though there were no end to them.

Dahlia took two grenades from her tactical pouch, pulled the safety pins, silently counted three seconds, and threw them.

Explosions rang out beneath their feet. Five or six Hollow Men trying to climb after them on the rope fell with agonized howls, disappearing into the smoke.

But still more Hollow Men were rapidly scaling the cliffs on either side before swiftly closing in toward the middle.

Fortunately, as they climbed higher and higher, they finally cleared the thick smoke. Nick felt his surroundings suddenly brighten as the midday sunlight finally pierced the thin mist and fell upon them both.

A Hollow Man scuttling sideways let out a strange cry and lunged at them, its head covered in yellow-green moss.

Dahlia happened to empty her magazine just then. She was about to draw the pistol strapped to her thigh when a dark shape flashed past. The Bolo knife flew up from below and plunged straight into the Hollow Man's crotch.

The yellow-haired Hollow Man tumbled down with an agonized howl, taking with it the Bolo knife that had accompanied Nick as he fought his way through the entire gorge.

"Of all the things you could be, you had to be a blond," Nick muttered, watching with considerable regret as his beloved knife was lost for good.

Although it was just a knife he had grabbed at random from the armory, its kukri-style blade really did lend itself well to powerful swings.

They held out for nearly fifteen minutes and could already just make out the proximity mines at the top of the gorge when a small protruding rock with enough room for them both finally appeared before Dahlia. She decisively stopped her rope ascender, bent down, and reached out to Nick.

By now, all the Hollow Men climbing up the cliffs on either side had been cleared out. All that remained were the things dangling beneath their feet like candied hawthorn on a skewer.

The girl pulled Nick onto the protruding rock. He followed her gaze up and down and immediately understood what she meant.

Dahlia drew a serrated military dagger and, with Nick's help, cut away the lower length of rope. Amid a succession of howls, the remaining Hollow Men all fell into the gorge.

A faint column of smoke rose from the gorge before the breeze dispersed it. A line of migrating birds returning north early passed through the smoke. The lead bird gave a displeased cry, drawing loud calls of agreement from those following behind.

At the cliff's edge, a pale hand with long fingers suddenly appeared, battered and covered in tiny scratches. It was followed by an equally pale arm, seemingly slender yet immensely strong, and likewise covered in wounds.

Panting heavily, Dahlia rolled up onto the ground, but did not get up immediately. Instead, she remained on her stomach and reached down to pull Nick up.

The two lay on the concrete beneath the watchtower, gasping for breath and gazing at the blue sky and white clouds overhead, feeling as though a lifetime had passed.

Only after an unknown stretch of time-perhaps a few minutes, perhaps longer-did Dahlia murmur in a dreamlike voice, "Nick, were all those things you told me down there true?"

Nick naturally knew what she was asking. He chuckled. "What? Having second thoughts? You don't want to leave with me anymore?"

Dahlia abruptly rolled over and straddled him, grabbing his collar in some anger. "You know that's not what I meant."

With a touch of tenderness, Nick brushed the back of his hand over the girl's battered arm. Although he was covered in injuries too, a grown man had thicker skin, after all.

Apart from a few wounds on his arms and shoulders where the Hollow Men's sharp, calcified fingers had slashed him during their earlier hand-to-hand fighting, leaving the flesh curled back in a rather alarming sight, the rest were not too bad.

"The world I came from isn't much different from this one. There are good things in the sunlight and ugly things hidden in the dark. But if you lived there, you probably wouldn't run into anything this dangerous again."

He suddenly remembered his strange inherited bloodline called "Grimm" and lost some of his confidence. "Probably..."

Dahlia sighed and leaned down to lie against Nick, feeling the man's breathing and heartbeat. Only after a long while did she speak softly.

"Actually, I was already planning to leave my current life behind and go to Lyon in France, or somewhere else nobody knew about, and open a little restaurant."

"Opening a restaurant in France? You really must have confidence in your cooking." Nick laughed.

Dahlia slapped him irritably. "Don't interrupt me. I just don't want to kill people anymore. Papa always said the people I killed deserved to die, but I know that wasn't true.

"And I'm very good at learning. I'm a great dancer, and I'm good at math too. As long as it's something that interests me, I can do it really well."

Nick could tell the girl wanted him to know that she no longer had much attachment to this world.

He let out a long sigh and tried to sit up. "Then just don't blame me later. Portland really is a peaceful city, so peaceful it's even a little boring. And in that world, I'm just an ordinary cop."

Dahlia pressed down on someone's firm chest muscles, her gaze suddenly turning a little strange. She lowered her head until their noses touched. "Are all the cops in that world as capable as you?"

Feeling the girl's hot breath, Nick gave a wicked grin. "In what way?"

"In every way, of course." Dahlia pushed him firmly back onto the ground, her movements a little rough. "I feel like I just went through a waking nightmare. Now I need you to help wake me up."

Nothing dispelled the effects of a nightmare better than a thoroughly satisfying battle. If the nightmare was truly too terrifying, then a couple more battles would do.

As night fell, the two inside the West Tower finally had time to rest and help each other clean and dress their wounds.

Dahlia picked a small splinter out of the wound on Nick's shoulder. She was just about to pick up the stapler-like skin stapler beside her when he raised a hand to stop her.

"Just bandage it. After a night's sleep, it should be mostly healed by tomorrow."

His words made the girl's eyes widen, so Nick briefly explained the two unusual abilities he had acquired earlier, focusing on the characteristics of Fake Death Revival.

After all, the girl might very well become his bedmate in the future. Something like faking death could easily lead to misunderstandings, so he needed to explain it clearly beforehand.

Dahlia's eyes immediately lit up, and she leaned close to his ear to whisper a question.

For once, even Nick was startled by her fanciful idea. "I can indeed set the recovery time for Fake Death Revival, but isn't punching myself after every time we do it, then waking up five minutes later to get myself going again, a little too weird?"