“Tell me about the gates of death.”
She was quiet a long moment.
Then she said, “You build up a tolerance. You need to use more and
more, just to get to the same place. Pretty soon you’re taking what is
technically a fatal dose. One sniff would kill a straight person stone dead.
And then you want more. Now you’re taking literally higher than a fatal dose.
Are you brave enough for the next step?”
“Were you?”
“I felt the same way when I was overseas. The only way to get
through was never back down. Always step up. Always take it on. You had to be
scornful. Like, is that all you got? So sure, I took the next step. And the
next.”
She sighed. The new quarter-inch strip was kicking in.
She said, “That’s the beautiful thing about next steps. There’s
always another one coming.”
Reacher said, “Logically there must be a last one.”
She didn’t
answer. (ibid, p. 326)
