The blue-haired commander tilted his head slightly, noticing the way she looked at him. "You have something to say, miss?"
Sasha straightened her back, meeting his gaze. "No. Just wondering if your rules come with protection and receipt. As you know my van here is valuable and everything inside is too."
A slow smile tugged at his lips — sharp, knowing, and far too amused. "You've got a mouth on you. That's rare these days."
"Yeah, well," she said evenly, "talking back is kind of my brand."
The commander's voice was calm — too calm for someone surrounded by chaos.
"Do you want entry or not?" he asked, his tone smooth as glass. "The undead are fast approaching."
Almost on cue, gunfire cracked through the air from the watchtowers above. Rifles barked, the echo bouncing off the steel walls. A moment later came the growls — wet, animalistic, and far too close.
Sasha's heart jumped. Perfect timing, she thought grimly.
