The other dolls raised their spears to throw. Climbing slow and steady was not working. But Sloan was acclimating to the speed of the wind and the sleekness of the car, all its fluid sides and lines. She felt more ready to try some bullshit.

She let go of the door and flew back. She summoned her gun and swung it in midair, smashing Blonde doll just as its spear left its little hand. The doll sailed off the car with a squeal of dismay while Sloan seized the spoiler with her free hand. The rest of her body kept flying into oblivion, but the tether of her arm rooted her to the vehicle with a hard bout of whiplash.

Immediately Tassel doll plunged a dagger into her hand. The pain was unimaginable, like a torment of hell, despite the lack of any stigmatic wound sprouting in her palm. She clenched her hand tighter as she reeled herself in, plunking a boot down in the hollowed rear light. If she let go of her gun she could reorient it in air and erase the other two dolls, but she would also erase the car and Lynette and other stuff, too. These dolls were eerily good at getting into situations where she had little ability to shoot them.

ALSO HER HAND HURT SO BAD JESUS FUCK

(Chapter 24)