CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED AND FIVE – ON THE EDGE OF DEATH

The minutes stretched interminably as the sound of approaching sleds grew louder. Jasmine held her breath, one hand clasped tightly in Sergei's, the other gripping the flare gun they had salvaged from the helicopter crash. It was a last resort she hoped she wouldn't have to use. Under the cover of darkness, Jasmine and Sergei made their escape from the village, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. The sympathetic villager who had aided them was a young woman named Anya, barely more than a girl herself. She led them through the winding paths between the huts, her knowledge of the village layout proving invaluable in avoiding detection. As they reached the edge of the settlement, Anya pressed a small bundle into Jasmine's hands. "Food," she whispered, her eyes darting nervously. "And map. Go north. Find help." Jasmine squeezed the girl's hand in gratitude, words failing her in that moment. Sergei, leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch, managed a weak nod of thanks.