THE LAST 100 DAYS

Night Siege

Chapter 16: Night Siege

"Four hours left," Noah said. "And every monster in the district just started walking."

Ethan didn't look away from the binoculars. East, west, north, the black growth rippled with moving shapes, hundreds of them, all heading one direction.

"Toward us."

"Toward *everyone.*" Noah's voice cracked. "Priya's scouts report the same on every side. Nothing's hunting. They're being herded."

Blue text split the dusk in front of Ethan's eyes.

**[ATTENTION, SURVIVORS.]**

**[STAGE ONE CONDITIONS ARE CHANGING.]**

**[AGGRESSION PARAMETERS: INCREASED.]**

The yard went silent. Two hundred and twelve heads tilted up at the same instant, reading the same words.

"It's starting," Marcus said.

"Get them inside." Ethan's voice came out steadier than he felt. "Wall teams to position. Civilians to the foundry, in groups of twenty. Marcus, you run the evacuation. Nobody goes alone, nobody carries more than they can drop."

"And you?"

"I hold the gate."

Marcus caught his arm. "That's a death sentence."

"It's the only choke point." Ethan met his eyes. "If it breaks, we lose everything."

"Then I'm coming back for you."

"Don't."

"Not asking."

---

The first wave hit at midnight.

It came from the north, a wall of gray bodies pouring over the fence like water over a dam. Brandt's wall team opened fire with pipes, bolts, anything that would fly. The creatures didn't scatter. They climbed over their own dead.

"They don't care!" Brandt roared. "They're not even trying to live!"

"Cole!" Ethan shouted. "North wall, fire line!"

Cole raised both hands, face white with strain, and a sheet of flame ripped along the fence. The first rank burned. The second rank walked through it.

*They're being pushed. Something behind them is worse than fire.*

From the west, a crash. The loading dock doors buckled inward.

"West door!" Pete screamed. "They're through the west door!"

Ethan ran. Behind him, Marcus's voice carried over the yard, calm and hard. "Group three, move! Group four, move! Carry the children, drop the crates!"

The west door was a hole. A dozen creatures crammed through it, shoulders scraping, their plates darker than any he had seen. One lunged for Hollis, the medic, who was dragging a stretcher into the foundry.

Ethan slammed into it with a shovel. It threw him ten feet.

He hit the concrete hard enough to taste blood. His ribs lit up, the same ribs the beast had cracked. His clock hung in the corner of his eye.

**[89 DAYS, 14 HOURS, 5 MINUTES.]**

*Not enough. Not enough to hold them all.*

Another wave was coming through the north gap. Another from the south. Dana was behind him with her son, backing toward the foundry. Eli was limping on a crutch. Noah was shouting coordinates into the dark.

*If I fall, they all fall.*

He had promised himself he would save time for the monsters that mattered. He had counted every minute like a miser.

**[CONVERT 15 MINUTES: BODY ENHANCEMENT?]**

His hands shook.

*Fifteen minutes. Gone for good.*

A creature crashed into Pete, who screamed.

*Yes.*

Heat tore through him. The yard slowed to a crawl. He saw every claw, every breath, every gap in the line. He moved.

The shovel took the first creature across the throat. He spun, drove it through the second one's seam, caught a third by the leg and hurled it into the fourth. Pete scrambled up, wide-eyed.

"Go!" Ethan roared. "Inside!"

He held the west door alone for eleven minutes. Every swing cost him a piece of something he could not name. Every kill was another message he didn't have time to read.

**[APOCALYPSE TIME ACQUIRED: 9 MINUTES.]**

**[APOCALYPSE TIME ACQUIRED: 9 MINUTES.]**

**[APOCALYPSE TIME ACQUIRED: 11 MINUTES.]**

*Net loss,* the cold part of his mind noted. *I'm bleeding time faster than I'm earning it.*

He kept swinging anyway.

---

At dawn, the creatures stopped.

They did not flee. They simply turned in unison and walked back into the black growth, leaving the yard scattered with bodies and smoke.

Ethan sank to his knees against the broken door. His arms wouldn't lift. His clock read **[89 DAYS, 14 HOURS, 41 MINUTES.]**

Fifteen spent. Forty-nine earned. Thirty-four ahead, and he felt like he'd been robbed.

Marcus found him there and sat down heavily beside him. His jacket was torn, his face gray with soot.

"Casualties?"

"Nine dead. Fourteen wounded. Everyone else is alive."

"Nine." Ethan closed his eyes. He had known their names.

"Nine out of two hundred and twelve. Ethan, that's a miracle."

"It's still nine."

Marcus said nothing. After a moment, he put a hand on Ethan's shoulder and left it there.

Noah ran up, breathless, holding a cracked piece of armor plate in a gloved hand. "You need to see this."

Ethan took it. The plate was warm. Its surface was already smoother than any he had pulled from the first beasts, faintly iridescent, with a seam running down one side like a healing wound.

"This one died four hours ago," Noah said. "Look at the others."

Ethan stood on shaking legs and walked into the yard.

Every body on the ground was changing. Plates thickened as he watched. Spines lengthened. Claws curled and split into hooked tips. A fallen creature's seam widened, and from inside it something small and pale pushed outward, wet and flexing, with an almost-human hand.

**[NOTICE.]**

His breath stopped.

**[MONSTER EVOLUTION RATE: ACCELERATING.]**

**[THE NEXT GENERATION WILL NOT NEED A HERD.]**

Behind him, the foundry doors creaked open. Two hundred survivors stepped into the dawn, blinking, whispering, hopeful.

And at the far edge of the yard, one of the dead creatures lifted its head.