Quinn didn't resist and let himself impact the wall with a dull thud that sent an aching pain shooting through between his shoulder blades.  He felt the cold metal of Alyssa's knife pressed against his jugular.  She was perfectly justified, and she had every right to slit his throat right then and there.  But Quinn was a survivor, and in situations like this instinct, cold and thoughtless took over.

[i]"Once one, always one."[/i]

"Tell them then," Quinn snarled, "Tell them what I am.  I've killed, I've tortured, I've raped.  I don't remember your face because it's just one out of a thousand."
He grasped at her wrist that held the blade, but he did not move it, "You're goddamn right I deserve to die.  But I'm not dying until I'm the last one left."