Dylan glanced at Dana, a trace of guilt in his eyes. "Dana, I'm so sorry. My wife is about to starve to death; I can't just watch her die... I'd gladly feed her my own flesh, but I cannot die before her. Otherwise, she would be you today."
The guilt in his eyes grew complicated, tangling for a moment before turning icy cold. Dylan slowly drew a crudely made handgun from inside his coat.
"I'll fight you..." The woman tried to lunge forward, but she clearly overestimated her strength and collapsed flat onto the ground.
Chapter 896