CHAPTER 16: THE HUNT BEYOND THE WALLS

Dawn came without sunlight.

The mist still clung to the ground, thick enough to blur the outlines of the barricades, turning the jagged metal into vague, hunched silhouettes. The night’s battle had left the camp restless; nobody had truly slept.

Ethan sat on an overturned crate near the firepit, hands wrapped around a dented mug of bitter, half-cold coffee. The warmth barely touched the chill that had settled in his bones.

Every creak of the walls still set his nerves on edge.

Reid’s voice cut through the quiet. "Everyone to the council point. Now".

Ethan glanced up at him once, then he moved.

They gathered near the main gate; a section of wall reinforced with welded steel plates and salvaged truck doors. Jonas leaned against the gatepost, chewing a strip of dried meat like it was an insult he wanted to kill.

Kara stood rigid, her spear planted in the dirt, while Holt and Mira arrived together, both looking like they’d been up all night.

Reid waited until all eyes were on him before he started. "We survived the breach," he said, directly addressing the problem as the mood in the camp changed.

He looked at them. "But survival isn’t the same as safety".

Kara’s mouth tightened. "Then we reinforce. We double the wall thickness, and place more traps on the inside".

Jonas shook his head. "You saw what I saw. Those things weren’t acting on instinct. They were organized. We sit here, and they’ll just keep coming back smarter and stronger. The apocalypse has a way of grinding you to death if you don’t adapt".

Kara pursed her lips, but stayed silent. She couldn’t refute his argument.

Mira crossed her arms. "And if we go out there without knowing what’s driving them, we don’t come back at all".

Reid let the silence hang, then he gestured toward the gate. "Follow me".

The outer gate groaned open on its warped hinges.

The forest beyond was silent, unnaturally so. No bird calls, no distant chitter of scavenger beasts, just the crunch of boots on damp earth.

Reid led them to where the first breach had happened.

The ground there was churned up, gouged with claw marks deep enough to crack roots. Black ichor stained the dirt, and here and there, fragments of bone lay scattered like broken tools.

"Look here," Reid said, pointing.

Ethan crouched beside him. The tracks were wrong; not just in size but in shape. The front prints were wide, with splayed claws, but the rears were narrow, almost hoof-like.

"These aren’t the same as last night’s bodies," Reid continued. "These are handlers".

Mira frowned. "Handlers?"

"Something drove those things toward us, then held back. The tracks lead deeper into the treeline. I counted at least four sets".

The mood in the camp turned even darker.

Ethan followed the trail with his eyes, the mist curling around it like it wanted to hide the truth. He could almost imagine the shadows between the trees shifting in memory of the creatures that had been there hours before.

The thought that something intelligent had sent the attackers made his stomach knot tighter than the fight itself had.

Reid straightened. "We have two options," he looked at them. "We both stay and fortify, knowing they’ll return, likely in greater numbers and with better coordination. Or we follow the trail and kill whatever’s commanding them before it sends more".

Jonas spat into the dirt. "I’m not waiting for round two".

Kara nodded once. "We end it now".

Mira hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. But if we’re doing this, we prepare properly. No rushing in like idiots".

Reid looked to Ethan last. "You in?"

Ethan’s answer came without hesitation. "If these things are learning, I’d rather meet them on our terms before they finish the lesson".

That was it. Preparation started.

Back inside, the camp moved with grim efficiency. Holt loaded extra magazines into his pack, Kara sharpened her spear until the edge glinted silver in the weak daylight. Jonas strapped on mismatched armor plates, muttering something about wanting a fair fight.

Ethan checked his gear. The grapple launcher’s coil was freshly wound, two extra spools clipped to his belt. The resin muzzle trap from before was long gone, but the Impact Flare Mine’s casing gave him ideas for improvisations he might draw in the field.

He ran a quick systems check in his vision.

The Improvisation Wheel shimmered faintly, its edges restless, as if it already sensed the danger ahead. 9 Improvisation Points remained, but spending them now felt wrong, like burning a lifeline before the rope was even tied. He wished they were at 10, then maybe he would have made his decision before going on this potentially dangerous journey.

By midmorning, they were ready.

The gate opened with a shriek that echoed too far in the stillness. Then, one by one, they slipped out, weapons ready, eyes scanning every shadow.

The forest felt different in daylight. The mist was thinner, but the trees stood taller here, their trunks ridged with black fungal growths that pulsed faintly, as if breathing. Roots coiled above the ground like constrictors, forcing them to pick their steps carefully.

Reid took point, following the distorted tracks with a hunter’s patience.

Holt covered the rear. Ethan stayed in the middle of the formation, both to avoid friendly fire and to be in reach of anyone who needed a quick improvisation draw.

The deeper they went, the more signs they found. They saw claw marks higher than any of last night’s attackers could have reached, including strange circular symbols gouged into the back of certain trees, and once, an entire clearing where the soil had been churned into a spiral.

Two hours in, they saw the first sign as Reid raised a fist, halting the group.

Ahead, the ground dropped into a shallow gully. In the center of it lay a carcass: one of last night’s tusked creatures, its body torn open and its head missing entirely.

Jonas grinned. "Looks like something else did our job for us".

"No," Reid said, crouching to inspect it. "This is a message".

The gully walls were streaked with claw marks, but they weren’t random. They formed crude, repeating shapes. Ethan didn’t recognize them, but the intent was clear.

"They know we’re coming," Reid said.

Ethan’s vision flickered, the Wheel spinning unbidden.

DING!

~----~

[Improvisation Draw Activated!]

[Improvised Gear: Whisper Pulse Detector]

Handheld sonar turned for biological motion. Range: 20 meters. Detects moving entities through light cover.

~----~

He held it up.

The screen pulsed faintly, green arcs sweeping across the display. For a moment, it was clear. Then, faint blips appeared; not one, but three, moving slowly, circling the gully.

"They’re already here," Ethan said quietly, tension flaring.

The group tightened formation, their weapons coming up as the mist in the gully began to shift.

The hunt had begun.