Sasha didn't move until the echo of their footsteps faded down the hallway. Then she exhaled so hard she nearly collapsed against the counter.
"Holy hell," she whispered. "That was close."
Her hands trembled as she picked up the bag of instant noodles again, stuffing it into her dimensional ring like her life depended on it. Because it did.
She had bought herself time—barely. A week. Maybe less, if the sharks compared notes and decided she was a bigger liability than an asset.
But it didn't matter.
The apocalypse wasn't waiting for anyone, least of all her.
Sasha glanced at the shattered door, the soil on the floor, the wrecked drawers and furniture. Then she laughed, a little hysterically.
"Well," she muttered to herself, "at least they didn't find the car."
And with that, she grabbed her keys, squared her shoulders, and headed out.
