The Cabin Is Always Hungry

LAST RESORT

Prologue

Somewhere outside of London

7 Days After the Death Core’s Birth

Blood, oil, and rain.

Those were the first things he smelled when Henry opened his eyes.

The cold, muffled rain pattering against the driver’s broken side window echoed above him. Wait, why is it up there…? He blinked into the gloom and felt the cold droplets of water on his cheeks cascading down the cracks. The chill in the air crept under his skin, nauseating and piercing. A familiar smell wafted into his nostrils, something like burnt rubber and gasoline.

And blood.

His blood.