CHAPTER 61: NIGHT ATTACK ON THE MUNICIPALITY OFFICE!

"It’s coming," I said.

Rachel, who had been sitting beside me, looked at me. "W...what’s coming?" She asked, setting down her plate.

I stood slowly, every muscle in my body tense as a bowstring. "Something," I replied, already moving toward the makeshift barrier that protected us.

I approached it cautiously.

But beyond the barrier, in the growing darkness, something else entirely waited.

I pressed my face close to a gap between two metal sheets, peering into the gloom. At first, there was nothing but the familiar urban wasteland—abandoned cars, broken streetlights standing like dead sentinels, and the ever-present smell of decay that had become the world’s new perfume.

Then I heard it. The groans.

They’d always been there. But this time something was slightly different. The groans seemed... coordinated. Purposeful.

And they were getting closer.

I counted the sounds in my head, trying to gauge numbers, distance, threat level.

What I heard made my blood run cold.

"There are more of them," I whispered to myself, watching the darkness seem to shift and writhe with barely visible movement. "And they’re not just wandering anymore."

I turned and went back inside the Municipality building.

Inside, about thirty people were scattered around makeshift tables, sharing what passed for dinner in our post-apocalyptic world.

Margaret sat at the central table, discussing something in low tones with several of the settlement’s defenders.

The conversation died as I approached, my urgency apparently written across my face.

"Margaret," I said. "The infected—they’re approaching. And I think those people you mentioned, the ones who destroyed the gates, they might be coming too."

The effect was immediate. Silence fell like a physical weight, pressing down on the room. Then, as if a dam had burst, panicked whispers erupted from every corner.

"How many?"

"Are you certain?"

"Where are my children?"

"Should we prepare to evacuate?"

Margaret stood immediately, her chair scraping loudly against the concrete floor. Her weathered face had gone pale, but her voice remained steady. "Are you absolutely sure?" She asked.

I nodded grimly, trusting my instincts. "Yeah. I can’t see them yet, but I can hear them. More than usual, and they’re moving toward us in group."

Without hesitation, several of the settlement’s scouts stood and headed for the door.

We waited in tense silence, the only sounds the distant murmur of the evening wind and the worried whispers of parents trying to keep their children calm.

Minutes crawled by like hours. Finally, the scouts returned, their faces showing a mixture of confusion and doubt.

"We didn’t see anything unusual," one of them said. "Perimeter looks clear. Same ambient noise level as always."

The others nodded in agreement, and I could see the relief beginning to creep across some faces. But I knew what I’d sensed out there. The danger was real, whether they could see it or not.

"No," I said, stepping forward. "Trust me, they’re coming. All of you need to prepare yourselves now."

That’s when Brad decided to make his entrance.

"And why exactly should we believe you?" He asked, his voice dripping with skepticism and barely concealed hostility.

I kept my voice level, refusing to be drawn into an argument when there were more important things at stake. "Because I’m telling the truth."

My calm response seemed to irritate him further. His face flushed red.

"For all we know, you might be working with those bastards who’ve been attacking us. Hitting us when we’re vulnerable, when our guard is down."

Was this really the moment to accuse me of something this absurd?

Several people tensed just because of him.

Martin, bless him, stepped forward immediately. "Brad, what the hell are you saying? I told you—this man saved Joel’s life. Risked his own neck to save him from an Infected Dog."

But Brad was on a roll now, feeding off his own paranoia. "Look, I’m just saying he could be a spy or something. You know how it works—gain our trust, infiltrate our group, gather intelligence about our defenses, our numbers, our resources. Then report back to his real masters."

"You’ve been watching too many movies, Brad," I said glaring.

"Movies?" He practically spit the word. "There are fucking zombies walking around outside trying to eat our faces, and you think having enemy spies is too far-fetched? Wake up, man! The old rules don’t apply anymore!"

Rachel, who’d been quietly supportive until now, finally spoke up. Her voice carried a sharp edge that I’d rarely heard from her. "He’s trying to help you people. Can’t you see that?"

Brad’s attention shifted to her, and his expression changed. He looked her up and down with the kind of predatory appraisal that had probably gotten him in trouble even before the world ended. "What’s a hot piece like you doing with a guy like him anyway?" He asked with a smirk.

"Brad." Margaret sighed. "That’s enough."

Brad clicked his tongue in annoyance but backed down, shooting me one last glare before stalking off toward the weapons cache.

Margaret turned back to address the room. "Regardless of the source, we should be prepared if there’s even a chance of an attack. I want everyone to spread out along the perimeter immediately. Watch every approach, every weakness in our defenses."

The response was quick to her orders. Within minutes, the peaceful dinner scene had transformed into organized preparation for battle.

Those who’d been eating abandoned their meals, carefully storing the precious food before reaching for weapons. I watched as ordinary people transformed into defenders.

Margaret approached me as the organized chaos continued around us. Her eyes held a mixture of trust and concern. "Will you fight with us?" She asked simply.

"Yeah," I nodded without hesitation.

Rachel stepped up beside me, her tire iron held ready in her hands. "I will as well..."

Right at that time the air exploded.

The blast was enormous, a thunderclap of sound and fury that shook the entire warehouse to its foundations. The windows rattled in their frames, dust rained down from the rafters, and several people were knocked off their feet by the shockwave.

Through the windows, we could see flames painting the night sky in shades of orange and red, casting dancing shadows that made everything look like a scene from hell.

Then came the screams.

"Oh God!"

"What’s happening!"

"The main entrance! The barrier’s been destroyed!"

We all rushed outside into the chaos of the night, and what we saw stopped us cold.

The main entrance leading to the Municipal office, built from dozens of cars welded together and reinforced with steel plating—had been obliterated. Vehicles that had taken teams of men days to position were now scattered like toys, some flipped completely over, others crushed into twisted metal sculptures.

But worse than the destruction were the people. Some of them who’d been manning the entrance lay scattered among the debris, some moving weakly, others ominously still. The acrid smell of burning fuel and something else—something organic—filled the air.

I didn’t hesitate. Racing toward the nearest injured person, I found a woman in her thirties, one of our regular patrol leaders. She was conscious but trapped under a piece of twisted metal, her leg bent at an unnatural angle. Blood seeped from multiple cuts on her face and arms.

"Hold on," I told her, working to lift the debris. "We’re going to get you out of here."

Rachel appeared beside me, already tending to another injured defender. "W...hat could do something like this?" She asked, her voice tight with panic. "Is there some kind of weapon that could cause this much damage? Maybe a fire arm"

I continued working to free the trapped woman. "I... I have no idea," I said, finally managing to pull her clear of the wreckage. Her leg was definitely broken, possibly in multiple places. "We need to get everyone injured inside. Now."

The injured were quickly carried into the Municipality building by those too young or too old to fight. I watched as the settlement’s non-combatants—elderly residents, parents with small children, anyone not equipped for battle—transformed into a medical team, using torn clothing for bandages and furniture as stretchers.

They were quite ready even though it had been only four days.

Rachel and I returned to the perimeter, where the full scope of our situation was becoming clear.

"Infected!" Came a shout from one of them. "A whole group of them! At least fifty, maybe more!"

I turned toward what remained of the main entrance. In the flickering light of the fires, I could see them approaching—a coordinated mass of infected, moving with more purpose than I’d ever seen before. They weren’t the usual scattered groups of wandering dead we’d seen before walking around aimlessly. This was different. This was organized.

"Prepare firearms immediately!" Margaret shouted. "Don’t let them breach the perimeter! Those with other weapons, prepare for engagement!"

About ten defenders moved into firing positions with various firearms—hunting rifles, pistols.

I was surprised to see that.

The rest of us formed a secondary line with melee weapons, ready to engage anything that made it through the gunfire.

I pulled out my hand axe as well.

Rachel took position beside me, her tire iron held strongly in her hand with a nervous expression.

"Fuck!" Brad appeared at my other side, his rifle already trained on the approaching horde. For once, his antagonism toward me seemed forgotten in the face of immediate danger. "It’s happening just like that bastard said it would. Are you cursed or something?"

You have no idea what I’m cursed with, I thought, turning my attention back to the approaching nightmare.

The infected were close enough now that we could see them clearly in the firelight.

That’s when it happened—the feeling like a sixth sense.

My heart began to pound with such violence that I could hear it echoing in my ears like thunder. My vision sharpened with supernatural clarity, and for a moment that stretched into eternity, I could see beyond the immediate chaos—beyond the burning wreckage, beyond the approaching infected, into something far more terrifying waiting in the darkness.

I clutched at my chest, feeling as though my ribs might crack from the force of my heartbeat. Every nerve in my body screamed danger with an intensity that made my previous warnings seem like whispers.

"E...Everyone! Get down!" I roared with every ounce of air in my lungs. Without thinking, I grabbed Rachel’s arm and pulled her down with me, covering her body with mine as we hit the concrete hard.

The others around me froze for a split second, their faces painted with confusion and panic in the firelight. But something in my tone, something in the raw terror that must have been written across my features, made them react. Margaret dropped first. Martin followed, then the others, a domino effect of survival instinct overriding confusion.

We’d barely hit the ground when the world exploded above us.

The sound was unlike anything I’d ever heard—not quite a gunshot, not quite an explosion, but something else. It was followed immediately by a roaring whoosh that made the air itself seem to catch fire.

A massive ball of flame, easily six feet in diameter, screamed through the space where we’d been standing just seconds before. The heat was so intense that I could feel my exposed skin beginning to blister even though we were pressed flat against the ground. The air shimmered and warped around the projectile, and I caught a glimpse of something impossible—the fireball wasn’t just burning, it was moving with purpose, guided by an intelligence that made my blood turn to ice.

The projectile slammed into the group of infected with devastating force. Bodies that had been moving with coordinated menace just moments before were instantly vaporized, leaving nothing but charred shadows burned into the ground. But the fireball didn’t stop there. It continued its deadly trajectory, passing through the space where our defensive line had been standing and slamming into the southern barrier with a powerful force.

Our carefully constructed wall of metal and concrete simply ceased to exist where the fireball touched it. Steel melted like butter, flowing in molten streams that hissed and sparked as they hit the ground.

For several seconds, the only sound was the crackling of flames and the distant hiss of cooling metal. Then Brad’s voice shattered the silence.

"What in the fucking hell was that?!" He scrambled to his feet, his rifle forgotten as he stared at the destruction with eyes wide as dinner plates. His face had gone completely white, and I could see his hands shaking as he pointed at the molten hole in our defenses.

He wasn’t alone in his shock. Every person around wore the same expression of utter disbelief, their minds struggling to process what they’d just witnessed. These were people who’d adapted to a world where the dead walked and tried to eat the living, but this... this was something beyond their worst nightmares.

I pulled myself to my feet, breathing heavily and trying to force my heart rate back to something approaching normal. The supernatural pounding in my chest was subsiding, but it left me feeling drained and shaky. My hands were trembling as I helped Rachel up, and I had to fight to keep my voice steady.

Now I was certain. This wasn’t just a coordinated attack by desperate humans. This was something else entirely—something that possessed capabilities far beyond anything that should exist in our broken world. And worse than that, itt wanted me, Rachel, and probably someone else in this community.

"They’re still coming!" I shouted, forcing myself to focus on the immediate threat.

Even through the devastating attack, a significant number of infected had survived. But what approached us now was something that would haunt my nightmares forever—walking torches, their bodies wreathed in flames but still moving with that same unnatural coordination. The fire that should have destroyed them had instead transformed them into something even more terrifying.

Their clothes had been burned away, revealing skin that crackled and popped as the flames consumed it. Yet they felt no pain, showed no awareness of their condition. They simply continued their advance, leaving trails of fire in their wake like demons emerging from hell itself.

"Fucking hell..." whispered Brad dumbfounded.

Margaret, to her credit, recovered faster than the rest of us.

"Everyone up! Weapons ready! They’re still a threat, fire or no fire!"

Most of the defenders managed to shake off their shock and raise their firearms. The night filled with the rapid crack of gunfire as they opened up on the approaching flames. Muzzle flashes strobed in the darkness, creating a surreal light show that illuminated the nightmare we were living through.

Dozens of burning figures advancing through a hail of bullets while the air around them shimmered with heat. Some fell as bullets found their mark, collapsing into burning heaps that continued to smolder long after they’d stopped moving. But others kept coming, seemingly immune to everything except direct hits to their skulls.

I gripped my hand axe tighter.

The first burning infected reached me, and I moved to intercept it.

She reached for me with arms that trailed smoke.

I waited until the last possible moment, then stepped aside and brought my axe around in a wide arc. The blade bit deep into her neck at jaw level, and the head separated cleanly, spinning through the air in a shower of sparks before hitting the ground and rolling away.

The body collapsed immediately, but the flames continued to burn for several seconds before finally beginning to die down. I stepped back quickly, patting out a few sparks that had landed on my jacket.

Rachel was beside me, her tire iron gleaming in the firelight as she faced her own opponent. Her target had been a large man, probably a construction worker based on his build and the remains of work boots that were still smoldering on his feet. She waited for him to lunge, then brought her weapon up in a perfect uppercut that caught him under the chin.

The reinforced tip of her tire iron crushed through bone and brain matter with a wet crunch that was audible even over the chaos of battle. The infected’s head snapped back at an impossible angle, and he toppled backward like a felled tree, his flames guttering out as he hit the ground.

The men fighting around us stopped what they were doing for a moment, their mouths hanging open in shock watching Rachel. I caught several of them swallowing nervously, and I wondered what they were thinking about Rachel now...

"More approaching!" Martin’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to see another wave of infected moving toward us. These ones weren’t on fire, but they moved with that same unnatural coordination.

There were at least a dozen of them, shambling forward with weapons clutched in their decomposing hands. But that wasn’t what worried me most. What worried me was the feeling that was building in my chest again—that supernatural heartbeat that meant something far worse was coming.

The sound filled my ears, drowning out the gunfire and shouting around me. My vision sharpened to inhuman levels, and I could see things that shouldn’t have been visible—heat signatures in the darkness, the trajectory of incoming threats, the exact moment when death would arrive if I didn’t act.

I gasped for breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensation as I forced myself to stand upright. "G..Get down!" I managed to shout, though my voice sounded distant and strange to my own ears. "Everyone get down now!"

This time there was no hesitation. The moment the words left my mouth, every person in our group hit the dirt. They’d learned to trust my warnings, even if they didn’t understand them. Margaret pulled two of the younger fighters down with her, while Martin tackled another behind an overturned car.

Three seconds later, exactly as I’d somehow known it would be, another fireball screamed through the space we’d been occupying.

The projectile slammed into a cluster of abandoned vehicles about fifty yards beyond our position, and the explosion that followed shook the ground beneath us. Cars were lifted into the air and tossed around like toys, their fuel tanks adding secondary explosions that lit up the night sky. The heat wave that washed over us was so intense that several people cried out in pain.

I stayed pressed against the ground, gasping for breath as the supernatural sensation slowly faded from my system. The experience was becoming more intense each time, and I was starting to worry about what it might be doing to me.

"R...Ryan, are you okay?" Rachel asked worried as she crawled over to where I lay.

I ignored the stares from the others as I slowly pushed myself to my knees. I could feel their gazes boring into me—part gratitude for the warning, part confusion.

"Yeah," I managed to say, though my voice was rough and strained. "But this can’t continue like this."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, helping me to my feet.

I looked around at the destruction, at the burning wreckage.

"We have to take down whatever’s firing these things," I said.