The first floor was too crowded to hold everyone, so the rest packed themselves tightly on the stairs until the place looked like a wall of bodies. From the moment Natalie stepped inside, she wrinkled her nose and covered it with her hand. The place reeked. It was a den full of filthy men, and given how rough things had been since the apocalypse, the air stank so badly it almost burned. When the crowd of men came rushing down the stairs, the smell hit even harder. Using her backpack as cover, Natalie pulled out a mask from her storage space and slipped it on. One layer wasn't enough, so she added another, then grabbed two more and handed them to Cassian. "This place is vile. Put one on before the air kills you." The men froze. At first, they couldn't believe it—a gorgeous woman had walked right into their place, and it had been ages since they'd seen one who looked that good. For a second, the excitement lit up their faces. But then they saw the disgust written all over hers, as if she'd just walked into a dumpster. Their smiles vanished. The two group leaders in front looked the most insulted. One of them barked, "Mr. Simpson, what's her problem? Does she think she's better than us?" Normally, that would've made anyone flinch or at least apologize, but Natalie didn't even blink. She grabbed another mask, put it on, and snapped, "God, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?" She took a few steps back, her face twisted in revulsion.Cassian mirrored her, tightening his own mask. The group leader's face flushed dark red. He glared at them, humiliated and furious. Brush their teeth? As if they had that kind of luxury. She had to be doing it just to mock him. Natalie didn't care. She was more concerned about Lucky. Lucky's sense of smell was sharper than any human's, and unlike other dogs who'd sniff anything, she despised foul odors. The moment the men started pouring down the stairs, she began gagging. While the gang leaders raged, Natalie ignored them and carefully strapped a small gas mask onto Lucky's face. Because of her muzzle, a normal mask didn't fit, so Natalie had to use the same kind of gear they'd used during the fog outbreak. And to be fair, she gave Cash and Baron small masks as well. Life is wonderful. Stay away from the stink. Now that the two of them and their pets were protected, they could finally breathe easy. The men watching, though, looked crushed. Their pride couldn't take it. What made it worse was that the pets—the ones they'd normally eat—now seemed to look down on them too. "Mr. Simpson, what the hell did you bring back?" one shouted. "They're insufferable! What's with the attitude?" another snapped. "Kick them out! We don't want them here!" people shouted from all around. Anthony lifted his hands, motioning for silence. "They don't need a welcome. They're not guests. I brought them back under orders."Anthony hesitated for a brief second before saying, "I'm going to report to the leader. Watch them closely. Until the leader gives new orders, don't let them run, and don't let them die." Brought back as prisoners? The men exchanged puzzled glances. Then why had those two walked around like inspectors—criticizing everything and acting like royalty? For a moment, they had almost believed the two were important recruits sent by the higher-ups. The Group One leader muttered, "Do we really need all of us just to guard two people?" The Group Two leader jabbed him lightly with his elbow and whispered, "The gunfire earlier..." He tilted his chin toward the guns slung across Natalie and Cassian's backs. Only then did the others notice. The weapons were large and heavy, right in plain sight, but they'd been too angry about the pair's attitude to notice them earlier. The Group One leader's confidence faded. He looked toward the doorway and asked, "Where's Zane? Why are you reporting back yourself?" Zane was the head of Group Three. Anthony frowned. "Zane's dead." "Dead? What about the rest of Group Three?" Anthony's tone turned sharp. "All dead. They killed them." The men who had been ready to start a fight fell quiet immediately. Did he bring two killers straight to the base?Anthony didn't care. He only wanted to finish up and find Fiorella. He couldn't stop thinking about whether she'd been frightened by the gunfire earlier. These idiots kept asking questions, wasting his time. So what if a few of their men had died? Sure, it was a loss, but Fiorella's safety was worth more than a few corpses. They had lost their lives. Fiorella had lost her peace. After a few curt instructions, Anthony spun around, ready to go.