A single runner had broken away from the frenzy, locked onto him, and was now sprinting at an impossible speed.

  Hugo threw himself forward, pumping his arms as he ran. He swerved hard, turning a er into another alley, hoping to lose it in the maze of buildings. His boots smmed against the cracked pavement, each step jolting through his body as his breath came in short, desperate bursts.

  He couldn’t outrun it.

  He o hide.

  His eyes darted wildly, searg for cover. His only ce was a wrecked delivery truck, its back doors half open. He veered toward it, diving behind a stack of wooden pallets just as the creature skidded around the er.

  Hugo pressed himself against the ground, f his breath to slow.

  Silence.

  For a brief moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

  Then—

  A sloing breath.

  Hugo ched his teeth, muscles coiled.

  The creature was close.

  A shadow passed over him.

  His blood ran cold.

  Then the awful sound of cws scraping against metal.

  His pulse smmed against his ribs as he turned his head—

  The runner was above him.

  Perched on the edge of the truck’s roof, its emaciated frame crouched low, its glowing eyes peering down directly at him. Its head tilted unnaturally to the side, its mouth stretg into a jagged, twitg grin, as if it kly where he was.

  Hugo had seds.

  It pounced.

  He rolled just in time.

  The creature smmed into the pallets, sending wood splintering in all dires. Hugo scrambled to his feet, gripping the crowbar like a lifeline as the thing twisted, limbs jerking unnaturally as it realigself.

  No more running.

  It was either fight or die.

  Hugo braced himself as the runner let out another shriek, its body tensing to lunge again.

  This time, he was ready.

  As it uoward him, Hugo swung the crowbar with everything he had. The metal ected with a siing ch, smming into the runner’s jaw and sending it reeling. It crashed against the side of the truck but barely faltered. Its head snapped banaturally, then realighat horrific grin still spread across its face.

  Hugo didn’t wait. He lunged forward, bringing the crowbar down again—this time aiming for the skull. The impact caved part of its temple, but the damn thi moving, g at him even as bed blood oozed from the wound.

  Panic surged through him.

  It wasn’t going down.

  The runner shed out, cws grazing his jacket, barely missing his flesh. Hugo twisted, stumbling backward, his breath ragged. He o finish it fast.

  His eyes darted to the truck.

  The open cargo area.

  He didn’t think—just moved.

  Dug low, he faked to the left, drawing the creature toward him before pivoting sharply and lunging toward the open side door. The runner shrieked and sprang at him—

  At the st sed, Hugo sidestepped and kicked out hard, sending the thing tumbling inside.

  Before it could scramble back out, he gripped the van’s sliding door and ya shut with all his strength. The metal smmed into pce, sealing the runner inside.

  A sed ter, the truck rocked violently as the thing threw itself at the walls, its shrieks turning into deafening wails. It cwed at the metal, rattling the doors, but it was trapped.

  For now.

  Hugo staggered back, sug in deep breaths. His arms ached, his chest burned, but he was alive.

  He wasn’t waiting to see if it found a way out.

  Spinning on his heel, he ran.

  The city around him was eerily silent again, but he knew better than to trust the calm. Those creatures—mutants, whatever they were—had ged the game. If more of them were out there, the city was no longer just dangerous.

  It was a death trap.

  Hugo kept moving, cutting through side streets, his focus locked on one goal: home.

  The air was thick with the st of decay and burned-out wreckage as he navigated through the remains of the old world. Abandoned cars sat like tombstones on the roads, their windshields cracked and interiors looted. He passed a venieore with its front ripped open, shelves toppled and sged long ago. Ahead, he spotted a pharmacy, its front windows shattered but the iill somewhat intact.

  A quick stop. Just a few supplies.

  Hugo stepped inside, immediately hit by the stale st of dust and faint rot. Shelves had been ransacked, bottles of medie and boxes of barewn across the floor. He moved quickly, knowing he didn’t have much time.

  Most of the painkillers and antibiotics were gone, but further down, behind a fallen dispy, he found a stash of pill bottles still sealed.

  Sleeping pills.

  He grabbed a bottle—sleep had been elusive, and exhaustion was being a real threat.

  , he spotted caffeine pills. Those went into his bag too. If he ever o stay alert through the night, they’d be a lifesaver.

  A few more minutes of searg, and he added some bandages, aic wipes, and a roll of gauze to his haul. Not the best finds, but good enough.

  As he turo leave, a rustling sound from the back of the pharmacy made his pulse spike.

  Not again.

  He froze, listening.

  A slow, dragging shuffle.

  A regur zombie.

  Hugo tightened his grip on the crowbar, slipping through the store quietly before it could notice him. He reached the front, stepping carefully over broken gss, and slipped bato the street.

  The city wasn’t silent anymore.

  Somewhere in the distance, a chorus of shrieks echoed through the ruins, far away but too close for fort.

  He had to move faster.

  A shortcut—he needed a shortcut.

  Hugo spotted an old service tunnel ahead, one he had never used before. It was risky, but if it cut through the streets and avoided open areas, it could be his best shot. He climbed over a -link fence, careful not to make too muoise, and slipped into the darkness.

  Ihe air was heavy, damp. His footsteps echoed faintly against the walls. Rusted pipes lihe ceiling, and the st of mold g to the stagnant air. He moved quickly, weaving through the narrow passage, his fingers brushing against the rough crete for bance.

  Then, a noise.

  A faint drip of water.

  And something else.

  A low, wet sound.

  Breathing.

  Hugo’s grip tightened on the crowbar as he froze.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Somewhere in the darkness, something shifted.

  A shuffle of movement.

  Then a low, guttural growl.

  Hugo exhaled slowly, every muscle in his body tensed. He turned his head, trying to pinpoint the source.

  Then—

  A shape lunged from the darkness.

  He barely had time to react.

  The force sent him sprawling backward, crashing against the damp floor. The crowbar slipped from his grasp, cttering to the ground. A weight pinned him down, cold, rotting hands g at his shoulders.

  A regur zombie—thank god.

  Still, it was trying to rip his throat out.

  Hugo bucked hard, twisting his body. His fingers scrambled against the floor until they closed around something—broken rebar, rusted but solid.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  With a guttural yell, he rammed it upward.

  The jagged metal puhrough the zombie’s skull.

  It twitched ohe still.

  Hugo shoved the corpse off him, chest heaving. He retrieved his crowbar and wiped his sweaty brow.

  That was too close.

  He couldn’t keep doing this.

  Exhausted, battered, but unwilling to stop, he pushed forward. The tunually let out into an alleyway not far from his plex. Relief flooded through him as he reized the familiar broken fence leading into his block.

  Almost home.

  He hurried forward, slipping through the gap, but he didn’t rex until he reached the stairwell of his building. His muscles screamed in protest as he climbed, each step feeling heavier tha.

  Finally, finally, he reached his door.

  The momeepped inside, he locked it behind him and colpsed onto the couch.

  Salem stirred from his er, giving him a sleepy, unimpressed look before curling back up.

  Hugo exhaled, running a shaky hand through his hair.

  He had made it.

  But the city had ged.

  And whatever those things were…

  They were only the beginning.

  Sleep took him before he could even process everything that had happened.

  A noise jolted him awake.

  Hugo’s eyes snapped open. It was still early—dim light barely filtered through the covered windows.

  Then he heard it again.

  Voices.

  He sat up, his pulse kig up. They weren’t whispers. They weren’t careful. Whoever was outside wasn’t trying to be quiet.

  Then—

  A single gunsh through the air.

  Hugo was on his feet in an instant, grabbing his gear. He threw on his Kevr vest, slung the empty shotgun over his shoulder, and took up his crowbar.

  Salem was already up, ears ftteail flig with agitation. The cat was staring at the door, low to the ground like he sehe tension thi the air.

  The voices outside grew clearer as Hugo crept toward the window. He lifted a st of the blinds just enough to see what was happening.

  Twelve men stood outside the plex, all wearing masks. Armed.

  Hugo remained crouched behind the window, keeping his breathing steady as he studied the group below. The men were standing in a loose formation, their ons held at the ready but not aimed—yet. They weren’t just stag survivors looking to sge. They moved with purpose, with disciplihese were people who knew how to handle a fight.

  A cold weight settled in his stomach.

  This wasn’t just some ter. They had followed him.

  Salem flicked his tail a out a small, almost impatient chuff, his green eyes fixed on Hugo. It was as if the cat could sense his unease.

  Hugo forced himself to move. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder, gripping the crht, and crept toward the door. The apartment was still and silent apart from his owhing. Every footstep felt too loud, too obvious.

  As he made his way toward Frank’s apartment, he kept to the shadows, listening to the muffled voices from outside.

  “…we know someone’s in there.”

  “e on, o make this difficult. Let’s talk.”

  Hugo’s jaw ched. He reached Frank’s door and knocked once—light but firm.

  It swung open almost instantly.

  Frank was waiting, rifle at the ready, his fareadable in the dim light. The old man’s eyes flicked down to the shotgun on Hugo’s back before he gave a slow nod.

  “You see them?” Frank murmured.

  Hugo nodded. “Twelve, all armed.”

  Frank exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on the rifle. “Figures.”

  “What happened before I got here?” Hugo whispered.

  Frank’s gaze didn’t waver from the window. “One of them got too close. I fired a warning shot. Didn’t hit ‘em, just let ‘em know we’re not easy targets.”

  Hugo swallowed. “And now?”

  “They’re waiting. Testing us. Trying to figure out if we’re worth the trouble.”

  From outside, a voice called again. “We just want to talk.”

  Hugo exged a look with Frank.

  her of them believed that.

  Frank sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hope you got a pn, kid.”

  Hugo tightened his grip on the crowbar.

  He didn’t.

  But he needed one.

  Fast.

  "You see them?" Hugo whispered.

  Frank nodded. "Been wat' since before dawn. Bunch of 'em. Too many to take in a straight fight."

  Hugo swallowed. "That gunshot—was that you?"

  Frank grunted. "Warning shot. They got too close. Figured it’d make ‘em think twice."

  Hugo exhaled. "What do they want?"

  Frank’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t know. But they sure as hell ain’t here to help."

  Outside, one of the masked men stepped forward. He carried himself with authority, the others standing slightly behind him like they were waiting for orders. His voice rang out, calm, but firm.

  "We know someone’s in there. We’re not looking for trouble—just a versation. Step out, a’s talk."

  her Hugo nor Frank moved.

  A long sileretched.

  Then the man spoke again.

  "Don’t make us e in."

  Hugo gritted his teeth, muscles tensing. This wasn’t good.

  Frank’s grip tightened on his rifle. "Guess we’re in for a long m."

  Hugo nodded, his pulse steadying. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  her was Frank.

  Tension hung thi the air as the stand-off began.