Chapter 17
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Myla’s eyes were fixed on Jonas, her expression as stoic as ever, but inside, her thoughts were in chaos. “The boss is eating raisin bread? Seriously?‘
Before she could fully process the surreal image, Natalie’s sweet, lilting voice suddenly broke the silence, catching her off guard.
Myla froze for a moment until Jonas shot her a cold, pointed glance. That was all it took for her to snap out of her daze, quickly turning to Natalie as if jolted awake.
“Three days if there are no mishaps,” Myla answered curtly, handing a pack of compressed biscuits to Natalie.
Natalie accepted them with a polite nod and murmured her thanks. “Three days. I can manage that, she thought.
The conversation ended there, and the spacious garage fell into an almost oppressive silence. The air seemed thick, save for the occasional crackle of firewood, which only accentuated the quiet.
Natalie took a small, tentative bite of the biscuit, her thoughts elsewhere. The heavy swirl of emotions from the day had dulled even her hunger, despite having gone nearly the entire day without eating.
Suddenly, the sharp snap of a twig breaking outside shattered the stillness. Startled, Natalie jerked up her head, her eyes darting to the entrance like a frightened deer. Her pulse quickened as unease crept in..
She hesitated, debating whether she was just being paranoid, but the anxiety won out. In a hushed voice, she asked, “Ms. Carr, do you think… they’ll come back?”
“They won’t,” Myla replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
Natalie’s nerves finally eased, and for the first time, she allowed herself to relax enough to eat.
Meanwhile, Jonas had taken a single bite of the raisin bread—and immediately regretted it. His brow furrowed in distaste. Sweet things weren’t his preference, yet Myla, with her insatiable sweet tooth, had apparently picked something loaded with twice the usual sugar.
Still, wastefulness wasn’t in his nature. He tore off the part he’d bitten into, intending to toss the rest to Myla. But before he could, his gaze drifted to Natalie.
Her head was tilted up now, her attention on Myla as they exchanged a few words. There was a warmth in Natalie’s tone, the kind of effortless friendliness that could make anyone feel like family.
Jonas noticed how she leaned slightly toward Myla, as if they shared some unspoken bond. And yet, not once did she glance. his way.
‘So, what was with the bread then?‘ His grip on the remaining loaf tightened involuntarily, the plastic wrapping crinkling sharply in protest.
The sound drew Myla’s attention, her eyes flicking curiously to Jonas, but Natalie stayed oblivious, her focus fixed downward, as if the small patch of ground at her feet held some great secret.
Jonas let out a low, derisive chuckle. He tossed the bread to Myla, then leaned back against the makeshift mattress. Closing his eyes, he muttered inwardly, ‘Let’s see what Natalie’s up to this time.’
Though Natalie kept her gaze averted, she had been acutely aware of Jonas’s every movement.
The sound of his sardonic laugh had set her nerves on edge, leaving her too tense to even breathe properly. It wasn’t until several long, agonizing moments had passed that she dared to sneak a glance in his direction.
To her relief, he seemed to have fallen asleep, his features relaxed and still. She let out a quiet sigh, the tension in her
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15:47 Fri, 11 Apr NAO
Chapter 17
shoulders melting away.
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Myla made quick work of her bread, brushing the crumbs off her hands as she figured it was time and rose to her feet. Without a word, she strode purposefully toward the exit.
Natalie opened her mouth as if to ask something, but the words stalled. She hesitated, worried that prying might make her seem overly curious. Instead, her gaze flicked briefly to Jonas, still lying there in a posture so composed he might as well have been carved from stone.
Reassured that he wasn’t paying her any attention, Natalie nibbled a couple more bites of her biscuit before carefully wrapping up the rest and tucking it into her pocket, saving it as precious reserve.
Hugging her knees to her chest, she folded herself into a tight ball and crouched near a collapsed section of the wall. The warmth of the fire flickered against her skin as she leaned against the rubble, eyelids drooping in exhaustion.
Outside, Myla didn’t wander far. Instead, she climbed up a sturdy, tall tree, her movements swift and practiced. Nestling herself behind a thick cluster of branches, she positioned herself where the dense foliage concealed her entirely.
After adjusting her night vision goggles, she scanned the area. The vantage point provided her with a clear view–optimal for keeping watch.
She let out two sharp bird calls, so realistic they could fool anyone.
About thirty seconds later, a distant response came–three similar calls echoing faintly from far away.
Myla stilled, her body settling into a state of intense focus, unmoving, as if she had become one with the shadows of the tree.
Roughly 500 yards away, within the decaying walls of an abandoned building, the group that had earlier ambushed Jonas, Myla and Natalie was on the move, retreating.
At the rear of the group, a young man with a mouthful of blackened, rotting teeth sneered, “No one’s following us. Guess it’s no big-”
His words cut off as a sudden, icy sensation spread across his throat. Instinctively, his hand shot up to touch it, but all he felt was the warm, sticky gush of blood running down his neck.
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