Victor stared through the grimy window at the restaurant, where the group had just disappeared inside. He swallowed so loudly he heard it himself in the building's dead silence.
"What do we do?" he whispered, eyes locked on the street. "Arnold… what do we do?"
There was more fear than reason in his voice. Hunger made his hands tremble and his stomach cramp painfully, but his legs still felt like lead.
Arnold was about to answer when they both noticed it - the old man who'd been leaning on a cane stopped and lifted his head. His gaze swept slowly across the building's windows until it landed on the exact one they'd been watching from.
"Shit…" Victor hissed.
They both jerked away from the glass and pressed themselves to the wall, like taking a single step back could make them invisible. Victor's heart pounded so hard he was sure the old man could hear it.
