Guan Kasha felt as if her eyes had been rubbed with sandpaper, making them painful.
There was a continuous "rumbling" sound in her ears. It was not the roar of the cold chain transport truck engine that she was familiar with, but a dull, regular vibration, with the squeaking sound of the wooden structure rubbing. What lingered on the tip of my nose was not the familiar cold smell of ice packs and fresh food in the car, but a damp musty smell, mixed with a faint smell of fireworks, and... A faint smell of blood.
