Five people. Ten eyes. Silence stretched tight between them like wire pulled to its limit.
Ethan's thoughts were spinning, trying to reconcile what he was seeing with everything he knew about this place. The three men facing him looked no steadier. Their grips were firm on their weapons, but confusion flickered plainly across their faces.
"Who are you…?"
They spoke at almost the same time, each side finding the other's existence here equally absurd.
Up close, it was obvious the three men were nervous rather than aggressive. Their eyes darted between Ethan and Blackie, searching for weapons that were not there. After a moment, perhaps reassured by the lack of visible threat, they gradually lowered their submachine guns, though they did not quite relax.
"Are you from the US?" one of them asked, catching Ethan's accent.
"Aren't you?" Ethan replied evenly. It was answer enough.
The flap of the tent behind them rustled, and a woman stepped out.
