CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I jumped against Ben. He stood firm, but his sharp eyes had a peculiar red tinge as they scanned the area.
The noise had come from one of the houses that was only partially standing. A woman in a ragged dress with a handkerchief over her head rushed out through the door. She waved her hands over her head and her face was a picture of terror.
“The man’s alive! He’s alive!” she shouted as she stumbled out into the street. Ben hurried over, and at the sight of him, she rushed up and latched on to the front of his coat. “He’s alive! By the Gods, he’s alive!”
Ben was forced to release the bag and my arms so he could grasp her trembling hands in his palms. “Why should he not be alive?”
She shook him so hard he flopp
