Sunny stared at the lump of metal in Saint's hand.
Saint stared at it, too.
Effie stared at Sunny and Saint with a funny expression.
"Wow."
She came closer and inspected the former revolver, then said thoughtfully:
"Is this the power of therapy?"
'What in the world is she saying?'
Sunny finally managed to regain his composure.
At that moment, he smelled something in the air. An acrid stench that assailed his nostrils despite the rain.
Smoke.
His eyes widened a little.
'Oh, no.'
"Help me get him out!"
Behind them, the leaking fuel had finally ignited, and fire was swiftly spreading across the overturned PTV.
"Crap."
Forgetting her jokes, Effie grabbed the deformed passenger door and tried to pry it open. Sadly, even her incredible strength was not enough to dislodge it — the door was bent completely out of shape and stuck, jammed by something from inside.
It only took Sunny a split second to evaluate the situation.
