Turns out watching your back in a high school cafeteria doesn't much prepare you for watching your back in a freezing cold bloodbath. Amy doesn't know this stuff. She's not built for this stuff. Maybe she'd looked forward to the day when she could've helped her dad on one of his jobs -- she could have helped him, and she could drive a getaway car at least half as well as he could, which was twice as well as anyone else who cared to try.

But there aren't any cars here. There aren't any computers. And Amy was never a fighter.

Looking into this woman's eyes, Amy decides, here and now, that she's not going to kill anyone. Period. End of discussion. Even if it meant dying, she wasn't going to do it.

Or at least she was going to try not to do it.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" blurts Amy. It's a request for more than that: please, tell me I'm not alone in this; please, tell me these people are as insane as I think they are.