Chapter Twenty-Five
Rurik
Băjenie, Romania
Rurik hurtled over the collapsed wall of the abandoned factory and skidded to a stop. Streetlights behind him threw his shadow across the debris-strewn floor. His gaze skimmed the area. No way to tell its true size; darkness obscured everything beyond the first thirty yards.
Dmitry pounded up behind him, sucking wind. “Did you see where they went?”
Rurik shook his head. The running figures—the slim woman and the child—had been two hundred yards away. Too far for Rurik or the Markarovs to catch them before they disappeared into the giant building.
The same with their pursuer. The misshapen thing had lurched down the street and into the building after the girls, its lame, clumsy movements all too familiar from the train depot, the “mud-man” ch
