“Food poisoning...”
It sounded too ordinary for something that had wiped out an entire armed force.
Ruslan’s lips curved into something that resembled a grim smile.
“Exactly.”
He stepped over another body without slowing.
“They believed they were protected behind concrete walls and assault rifles. They forgot the most basic rule.”
He stopped briefly, looking down at a man whose fingers were still curled around an empty gun.
“Everyone has to eat.”
A cold silence stretched between us as we moved forward.
Outside, the heavy double doors opened.
Night air rushed in.
Cool. Salty. Clean.
It hit my skin like a blessing after being trapped in decay.
A black SUV waited at the entrance, its engine idling quietly under the dim estate lights.
Ruslan opened the passenger door for me.
He helped me inside carefully, making sure my legs cleared the frame.
Then he walked around and slid into the driver’s seat himself.
No driver. No convoy.
Just us.
The doors shut with a heavy thud.
And instantly—
The enclosed space made my reality unavoidable.
The smell of me filled the cabin.
It was humiliating.
Rancid sweat. Urine.
Blood.
The scent of days spent trapped and unwashed.
I shrank deeper into the seat.
“I stink,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself like I could contain the odor. “You should—”
“Elena.”
