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Chapter 282 - THE HIERARCHY OF SURVIVAL

Chapter 277: The Hierarchy of Survival

​The barricade held. For now.

​We had shoved the heavy mahogany dining table upright against the jagged hole in the roof, wedging it in place with broken seat frames and luggage. It wasn't airtight—snow still drifted in through the gaps, dusting the blood-stained carpet like powdered sugar—but it muffled the howling of the wind.

​It didn't muffle the howling of the beasts.

​Awooooo—yip-yip-yip.

​The pack was outside, circling the metal carcass of the Iron-Horse. Every few seconds, a heavy body would slam against the side of the train, testing the reinforced steel, scratching at the frosted windows. They were probing for weakness.

​Inside, the temperature had stabilized at "deadly cold."

​I sat on the armrest of a ruined seat, wiping the black, viscous blood of the Alpha Stalker off my blade with a silk handkerchief I'd taken from Eric William's unconscious body.

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