"I am not going down into that frozen sewer."
Victor backed away from the dark concrete stairwell. He clutched his tailored suit jacket tightly around his shivering chest.
The lobby of the Grand Hotel was a slaughterhouse of torn clothing and b****y marble tiles. The feral fight over the pantry scraps had ended hours ago.
The survivors were huddled in dark corners. They were waiting for death to claim them.
"You are the only one who knows how the electrical panel works Victor," Caroline pleaded. Her lips were bruised and cracked.
"I am a billionaire heir," Victor snapped. His breath plumed in the freezing air. "I do not do manual labor."
Victor had just remembered a crucial secret about the Grand Hotel infrastructure.
The massive building possessed an independent heavy duty diesel g
