Chapter 10 Rowans POV
735 Words
We don’t run.
Running triggers pursuit.
We move.
Measured. Backward. Controlled.
Kade lays scent distractors as we shift—old trick we learned from hunting dogs before the world ended. Rotting meat tied off and flung wide to pull wandering walkers off scent trails. It won’t fool something coordinated for long.
But it buys seconds.
Seconds matter.
Behind us, the clearing erupts—not into chaos.
Into motion.
The intact one doesn’t charge.
It gestures.
Not dramatically. Just a sharp tilt of its head.
And the outer ring begins advancing in staggered lines.
Not clumped.
Not funneling.
Spreading.
“They’re flanking,” Jensen breathes.
I clock the pattern instantly. Two arcs pushing wide left and right, center mass advancing slow and steady.
Containment.
My pulse stays level.
“Tree break in thirty meters,” I say quietly. “We split there. Regroup at Marker Three.”
No one questions it.
Death moves beside me like shadow and steel, blade already loose in her hand.
One walker surges ahead of the formation—fresher, quicker. It clears ground faster than the others, aiming to cut our angle.
I pivot mid-step and fire once.
Suppressed crack.
Round through the orbital socket.
It drops without a sound.
The intact one doesn’t react emotionally.
It adjusts.
That’s worse.
We hit the tree break.
“Split!” I snap.
Mara and Jensen veer left. Kade right.
Death stays with me without needing instruction.
Behind us, the walkers hesitate for half a heartbeat.
Then they divide.
Correctly.
They track both groups.
My jaw tightens.
“They’re reading movement,” Death mutters.
“Or prioritizing targets.”
We don’t get to debate it.
Two fresher variants burst through the brush ahead of us—intercept pattern.
Not random encounter.
Calculated cut-off.
Death moves first.
Katana arcs low, severing one’s leg at the knee. Before it hits the ground she pivots, driving the blade through the second’s throat and up into the skull in one fluid motion.
I step past her, firing twice into the crawler trying to grab her ankle.
Clean.
Efficient.
Behind us, the main body keeps advancing—but slower now.
Deliberate.
Like they’re herding.
I glance back once—and lock eyes with the intact one cresting the ridge.
It doesn’t shamble.
It walks.
Not human.
But closer than it should be.
Its head tilts again.
And from somewhere deeper in the forest—
Another answering howl.
Closer to the settlement.
Cold realization slides down my spine.
“This isn’t just a nest,” I say. “It’s a forward position.”
Death’s expression hardens. “They’re mapping us.”
Yeah.
They found our perimeter.
Now they’re probing response time.
Testing reaction patterns.
Learning.
We break through the final treeline and the settlement walls come into view in the distance.
Signal horn blasts from the tower.
They see us running tactical retreat.
Good.
Dad’s not going to like this.
We clear the outer markers and guards drop covering fire—precise shots thinning the pursuing edge. The walkers slow under pressure but don’t scatter.
The intact one stops at the treeline.
Doesn’t advance into open ground.
Just watches.
Even at this distance, I can feel it calculating.
Then slowly—
It raises its head.
And howls.
Not rage.
Not hunger.
A call.
From beyond the ridge, from further north—
Multiple answers roll back.
Layered.
Echoing.
The guards on the wall go pale.
That’s not one nest.
That’s a network.
The intact one lowers its head again and retreats into the trees.
Not defeated.
Not driven off.
Withdrawn.
Testing complete.
I step through the gate as it slams shut behind us.
Dad’s already there.
“How bad?” he asks.
I don’t sugarcoat it.
“They’re organizing. Multiple clusters. Coordinated movement. Flanking behavior.” I pause. “And one of them is directing.”
Silence spreads through the courtyard like oil.
Death wipes her blade clean again, eyes still on the northern treeline.
“They’re not wandering anymore,” she says quietly. “They’re preparing.”
Dad looks from her to me.
“For what?”
I meet his gaze steadily.
“For siege.”
Another distant howl carries across the wind.
Not random.
Not lost.
Strategic.
And for the first time since we built these walls—
I don’t feel like we’re defending against a plague.
I feel like we just got noticed by something building an army.
- Writer
