Axel studied the faces of the men aiming their rifles at the cab. Their expressions were beginning to tighten, their features scrunching with irritation. It was clear that their patience was running thin. Axel had stayed put longer than they expected, refusing to give them the satisfaction of stepping out into the open like a lamb walking to slaughter.
His jaw tightened. He had no intention of turning into a human porcupine, riddled with bullets simply because he hesitated too long. He turned his head slightly toward the driver, who was still trembling in fear, his hands gripping the steering wheel as if it could somehow anchor him. The man's wide eyes darted everywhere except at Axel, sweat dripping steadily down his temples.
To Axel, it looked more and more like the driver's fear was going to drag him down rather than help. His patience with the older man snapped. He glared coldly at him, his eyes sharp and commanding, his voice cutting through the tension from the back seat.
