Lorraine's POV
The heat inside the van was suffocating.
My throat burned from the smoke creeping through the cracks of the metal walls. Every breath tasted like ash and fear. The smell of gasoline was sharp, unmistakable, it coated the air thickly enough to choke us.
Felix's panicked voice broke through the chaos first. "The van is on fire" he rasped, pressing his trembling hands against the metal walls. "They're really going to burn us alive in here."
Varya cursed under her breath. Alistair's jaw was tight, his eyes darting toward the thin slit of light between the van doors. Outside, muffled voices barked orders, followed by the metallic click of lighters.
"We need to leave," Felix said, voice cracking. He looked like he could barely keep still. "We can't stay here! We'll die in here!"
"If we leave now," Alistair said sharply, "we'll walk straight into their midst. There's no cover, no escape routes. We'll be outnumbered thirty to one."
