SuicideAndre was shifting impatiently in his crate when their cart stopped moving. This is the last time I voluntarily stuff myself inside anything remotely resembling a box. In fact, he decided he’d be cremated at death.
Fitting, considering his patron god, Piroch, wielded fire.
Something screeched, they started rolling, then stopped shortly after. There was the suction of a secured door, that obnoxious metallic screech again, followed by a sigh of relief… then silence. With a rustle of fabric, light suddenly poured through the cracks in Andre’s crate. He winced and whispered, “Are we clear now, Callahan?”
“Yeah, you can come out.”
Andre held none of his impatience back as he unlatched his crate from the inside then threw off the lid, which clamored on the floor. The rest of the team,
