Chapter 8 The Survivors of Riverton

"Who are you?" another middle-aged man asked.

"Who cares about that, John? We lost five people on this trip and came back empty-handed. Look at them. They're carrying so many supplies. It's like lambs walking into the slaughter."

"Hand over the supplies, and we will let you go."

Since the man, John Cooper, was holding a gun, we were understandably frightened.

As we reluctantly set down our supplies, the group's audacity grew.

The blonde guy flashed a grin and said, "Why don't the two beauties have some fun with us? I'll give you two packs of instant noodles in exchange. How about that?"

"Enough," John interjected sternly.

Hearing his command, the blonde guy pouted but quickly resumed his smile, saying, "Don't worry, John. I won't force them if they're not willing."

Just when I thought we were at their mercy, he suddenly grabbed Ashton's and my dad's hands.

I was left speechless.

Ashton didn't resist, but his expression turned icy. My dad, meanwhile, was visibly shocked.

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