The fiery glow from the explosion cast dancing shadows across the forest, illuminating the panic on everyone’s faces. Claire’s heart raced as she squinted through the smoke, trying to make out the figure approaching them. The outline became sharper, each step deliberate, exuding an air of danger.
John raised his gun, his voice sharp. “Stop right there!”
The figure emerged fully into the firelight—a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark, calculating eyes. His lips curled into a smirk as he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Relax,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “I’m not here to kill you. Yet.”
“Who the hell are you?” Tara demanded, stepping forward, her tone filled with suspicion.
“Call me Alexander,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over the group. “I work for Robert. Or at least
