After five minutes, Henrik had finished explaining to Scar why they ended up breaking into her apartment.
He told her about his past as a hero turned deserter, about Rhett's mission to save the people on his list, how they pretended to be zombies to avoid Claudette's wrath and how that led them into the arena, with the gates shut behind them.
"So, do you know how we can escape?" Henrik leaned forward as he sat on the futon on the floor.
Scarlet leaned forward, plucking what looked like a cigarette box and a lighter from between the layers of the futon and set a cig alight. She brought it to her lips and took in a breath before puffing it out.
Under the dull orange light, the smoke coiled from her mouth like a dragon's breath. Her robe clung to her frame, but her expression stayed unreadable—cool, like someone who'd seen too much. Rhett couldn't help but think she looked like those dangerous harlots from Chinese brothel scenes on TV, the kind who always knew more than they let on.
