The cabin was eerily quiet except for the ragged breaths of its occupants. Xavier stood by the door, his gun drawn, scanning the room for anything that could serve as a makeshift defense. The injured man slumped against a wall, pale and trembling, while Clara paced nervously near the single window, muttering under her breath.
Elizabeth pressed herself against the rough wooden wall, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Her mind raced, trying to grasp what had just happened. They had barely escaped the forest, and now they were trapped in this cabin with Anderson's men closing in.
"How many did you see?" Xavier asked sharply, his voice cutting through the tension.
Clara peered cautiously through the gap in the wooden shutters, her face pale. "At least ten. Maybe more." She turned to him, panic edging into her voice. "What are we supposed to do, Xavier? We can't fight them off!"
