The Distant Whispers
The van hummed a low, tectonic frequency that vibrated through the soles of Elias’s shoes, a mechanical heartbeat that matched the erratic, thudding rhythm of his own compromised heart. He sat in the driver’s seat of the battered Ford Transit, hands resting on the wheel with the precise, detached care of a man handling defused ordnance. The landscape outside the windscreen was a smear of grey...
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