CHAPTER 57: THE HUNTER’S SNARE

Dawn bled across the Hollow Plains, a dim smear of crimson pushing the shadows back. By dawn, their resolve was in alignment.

They had a mission to complete today.

The ruined farmhouse stood behind them, a brief sanctuary they were now leaving behind. For once, they weren’t fleeing. For once, they were the ones hunting. Their steps were measured, deliberate, and heavy with purpose.

Ethan led from the front, the Wheel pulsing faintly at the back of his mind. His eyes were fixed east, where the collapsed bridge smoldered on the horizon like the corpse of some fallen titan.

Jonas walked along with stubborn determination, while Travis followed beside him grumbling about backtracking into hell.

Kara’s spear glinted in the morning haze. Mira’s wind stirred faintly, carrying the scent of ash. Reid walked slow but upright, eyes sharp.

As for Holt, he ranged ahead, scanning for threats with his tracker’s gaze.

The city that had almost been their end awaited them again. And somewhere in its charred skeleton, Pike lived.

The Bridge of Cinders was no more. Its middle was gone, torn into the river, but twisted girders still jutted upward from the current, a jagged spine across the water.

Blackened steel beams clung together in places, forming a precarious lattice that stretched from one shore to the other.

"It’s suicide," Travis muttered, staring at the wreck. "This is literally an Apocalypse tightrope. One wrong step, and we’re shark soup".

Ethan’s gaze narrowed. "We don’t need it to be safe, we just need it to hold long enough."

Then the Wheel pulsed as his palm burned.

DING!

~----~

[Improvisation Draw Activated!]

...

[Improvised Gear: Rift – Spike Anchors]

Jagged steel pikes infused with Rift resonance. When driven into metal, they fuse and stabilize structures temporarily.

Duration: 2 hours.

~----~

Ethan summoned the anchors, three jagged rods glowing faintly. He slammed the first into the nearest girder. The steel hissed, fusing into place.

The bridge shuddered, but held.

"See?" Ethan said, his tone edged with grim confidence. "Not shark soup yet Travis. The world hasn’t given up on us yet, so let’s stay optimistic".

Kara smirked. "Lead the way, gambler."

"Gambler huh?" Ethan smiled. "That’s one way to put my ability".

They crossed one at a time, each step over rusted beams groaning under their weight. Ethan went first, driving anchors into weak points, his gauntlet steadying him as the skeleton span quaked.

Mira’s wind whispered beneath them, steadying their balance against the sway of the river, carrying grit away from their eyes.

As for Holt, he crossed like a shadow, precise and measured.

Jonas grunted with every step but refused help, even when Travis muttered "if you fall, I’m not fishing."

Halfway across, the river suddenly boiled beneath them, and the memory of the Behemoth resurfaced. Everyone froze, waiting for a shadow to come but it didn’t come.

Only when Ethan waved did they move again, hearts pounding against their chest. Travis was already beginning to doubt the sanity behind their decision.

’We’re literally walking towards death, dammit!’

By the time they reached the far side, sweat streaked their faces but relief flared in their eyes. They were back.

And now, the hunt began.

Holt led them through the ruins, his tracker’s ability catching faint imprints of Pike’s movements: boot treads, charred drag marks, the discipline of men who had regrouped.

The trail led north, to a burned-out machine yard near the collapsed industrial blocks where warehouses gutted by fire loomed like broken jaws, and cranes tilted like gallows. Overturned trucks lay rusted, skeletal.

"This is it," Ethan said, crouching behind a wall of twisted rebar. "Wide lanes for his rifles, debris for us. He’ll think he’s in control here."

Reid’s gaze swept the yard and he nodded. "We’ll use his habits against him."

They worked quickly, each taking their place in the snare.

Holt scaled a crane, rifle steady, sightlines marked. "Two nests. If they spot one, I shift to the other."

Mira stretched her hands, the wind bending to her will as dust lifted, faint currents swirling through the yard. "I’ll distort sound. That way, their shots won’t land where they think."

Kara and Jonas set themselves in the flanks, crouched low behind heaps of twisted steel, blades and fists ready.

As for Travis, he found cover behind a collapsed wall, muttering as he unpacked what supplies he had left. "Apocalypse ER, round two. Just remember, if you break, no anesthesia."

Reid crouched opposite Holt, rifle across his knees, eyes cold.

Ethan moved among them, checking every angle, his gauntlet sparking faintly. The Wheel pulsed, simulating the fight to come.

When all was set, silence fell.

Hours crawled.

The sun rose higher, heat pressing down, dust shimmering in the air yet they stayed hidden. Their breathing was shallow and faint.

Travis tried once. "So, uh, anyone else think it’s ironic we’re risking our lives in a machine yard when none of us even knows how to change engine oil?"

But not this time, his words fell flat. Even he eventually lapsed into silence. "Damn, everybody is so serious".

Jonas flexed his hands, muttering under his breath about breaking Pike’s skull. Kara leaned on her spear, eyes sharp and restless.

Holt never blinked, his rifle steadily aimed at the yard’s mouth, while Reid sat like a carved statue, waiting. Mira closed her eyes, wind brushing her hair, calm but tense.

Ethan crouched low, eyes on the yard.

Every heartbeat thudded like a drum.

The Wheel pulsed, faint golden arcs teasing at the edges of his vision.

Then Holt’s voice, low and clipped suddenly broke the stillness.

"Movement."

Figures appeared at the edge of the yard.

Pike’s survivors, four of them, scarred and limping, but disciplined moved in formation. Their rifles gleamed in the sun.

And at their head walked Pike.

His scarred jaw was twisted into a permanent snarl now, his eyes cold, gray, and unyielding. He moved like a man who still owned the ground beneath his boots, Predator’s Instinct scanning every shadow, every ruined frame.

Even at this distance, his presence pressed down like gravity.

Ethan raised his gauntleted hand, signaling silence.

The Wheel pulsed, golden light flickering in his eyes.

The Tyrant had entered the snare.