Chapter 38: Last One Standing (I)

"This is madness, damn it."

What the old man was doing was pure insanity. The leap straight to the wall, twisting the Felroz and using it as a dart, throwing it and taking out five or six more. He landed on the ground, stepping on the creature and sliding, attacking from a distance.

The air impulses weren't just air—it was impossible for Marcus to believe it was simply displaced air. Each blast tore through chests, arms, or heads, killing some instantly.

Dante simply jumped, dodging two lateral attacks, and his body seemed to freeze mid-air when, suddenly, he spun 360 degrees, the sole of his boot sinking into the creature's mouth. Another one was taken out, but their screams kept increasing, echoing from one side to the other.

Marcus pulled his rifle and started firing. They moved too much, which was natural for creatures with four arms and immense strength, allowing them to leap from one wall to another. They clung to the ceiling like spiders and dived toward the old man. Marcus adjusted the output of his Cosmic Energy.

The shots began piercing their shells, reaching their organs. The numerical advantage didn't even seem to pose a challenge. Dante took a hit to his arm and blocked another before two more aberrations attempted to attack—another rifle burst stopped them.

Dante gave him a quick side glance and charged. No matter how absurd it seemed, the shooter couldn't describe how insane it was for one man to handle Felroz like that. Bombs or ranged attacks, like those used from the Radio Tower, were the usual methods for dealing with much stronger creatures.

In truth, the only thing that made sense in that space was that time was passing, and the number of Felroz was dropping drastically.

The two crushed the Felroz so thoroughly that none got up after two hits.

Marcus made a move to reposition and leaped to another corner. Along the way, one of the Felroz guarding the battery screamed and charged at him. Too fast, Marcus dove to the side as the first arm slashed through the air and hit the wall. The creature turned its face, its maw splitting open into a gaping hole.

He exhaled deeply after releasing the trigger. When he glanced at Dante, the old man was using the wall as cover, crushing two or three more against a sharp rock. Then he saw him pull a shackle from the middle of a stone and tear through it as if it were a sword.

Dante simply began ripping through one after another, retreating in short hops, attacking with such speed that his strength seemed the least of his traits. The Felroz sensed the approaching blur with a grin, his piercing laughter rivaling their sharp, furious cries.

For a moment, Marcus thought he saw two creatures fighting over the same piece of meat, the same goal, the same purpose.

"Seems like I went a little overboard this time."

The old man held the Felroz by the neck, staring at it. The creature writhed, trying to break free, but Dante ignored whatever plea or struggle for life it had. A sound cracked—the creature's neck bent slightly. The old man let it drop.

The remaining screams came from a dozen Felroz clinging to the ceiling. Marcus noticed they weren't coming down, holding on tightly to the energy pipes as well. Their bodies indicated tension, shoulders raised.

"They're scared," he muttered, surprised by his own words. "We have a chance to grab the battery, Dante. I'll take care of them; you grab it, and we get out."

One of the Felroz began biting into one of the thick solar panel cables. Dante was moving toward the battery. Marcus wasn't going to let all that be ruined just because one creature thought it was clever enough.

"If you're that hungry, eat lead."

I

Staring at the reservoir wouldn't help. Clara had other things to do besides waiting for the two of them or listening to the Felroz screams. She didn't detest that sound because the number of sleepless nights spent in fear had been enough to make her appreciate a good melody.

Her workbench was different from Marcus's, so when she sat in front of it, she ignored what others had to say or even what was happening around Kappz. It wasn't that she wasn't afraid during the day—it was precisely because working with medicine and the yellow powder was complex.

Even while focused, she hummed rhythmically.

"Where's the trophy? He's running to me…" She made a few more adjustments. "He's always running to me."

Using the blue liquid instead of the green one caused the powder in the container to release a lighter, greenish smoke. She placed the mixture into a capsule and shook it. The pill was placed into a box with several reserved slots. More than half were already filled.

Clara wiped the sweat from her forehead, removed her protective goggles made by Marcus, and placed them on the stand. She went to the edge and rubbed her eyes. It wasn't exhaustion; she knew that well. She had slept well, had a good mattress, a soft pillow, and thick blankets to shield her from the cold.

It was never because of sleep, the night, or the day's tasks.

"You're tired because you worry too much," Simone had told her one of the many times she'd seen her in the same state, staring at nothing and waiting for some magical return. "But you're worrying about what you can't control."

Clara couldn't deny how exhausting it was. Since being invited to Kappz group meetings, she understood the city functioned far worse than she had imagined before knowing the details. None of them were good at managing their own medicine or resources. Even food ran out quickly.

Beside her, she had enough to keep Marcus, Dante, and herself alive for another month. She never mentioned having those supplies, but during the last meeting, one of the hunters questioned how they could survive without asking for help.

Simone gave a vague response about control and management, but Clara saw it wasn't enough. The hungry eyes of desperate men gave her chills, though they weren't worse than the pain of having nothing and no one by her side.

And to make matters worse, she heard the sound of heavy boots crossing the wooden bridge connecting the two buildings.

"Clara Silver." It was Antton, carrying an empty bag under his arm. "You're exactly who I wanted to see."

"I have nothing to offer you. Simone isn't here either. Please, leave me alone."

Antton dropped the bag on the ground, smiling.

"I came to see you and take everything you've got."

Clara scratched her cheek and blinked twice.

"As I said, Simone isn't here, and you have no reason to take anything from me. Marcus and I are working hard to distribute all the medicine; we don't even have food. Have you seen how long they stay out just so we can have a meal?"

He stood still, a wide smile on his face, and grabbed a can of processed sausages, throwing it at her feet.

"Then explain why the collection has this kind of food, and we have nothing?" His tone didn't match his smiling expression. "Do you think you can make fools of us? Your new friend shows up out of nowhere, you get more supplies, and you don't share?"

Clara bent down, picked up the can, and nodded.

"I remember that. Dante found it about a week ago. He asked to share it with the children." She tossed the can into the open backpack. "Are you a child, Antton? No need to answer; it's obvious you act like one. Now spare me your ridiculous speech and go back to your side of the city. I don't see you handing out food to anyone, and you come here to complain?"

"We're in a low season," he said louder, pointing at her, losing his posture and smile. "And you know that, damn it. We risk our lives every day trying to bring back some meat, and you have canned sausages and don't share a thing?"

"Exactly, Antton. You used the right word—'trying to bring meat.' But you don't. If you want food, do what Marcus and Dante do: go out and look for it. I owe them some accountability, not you."

Antton took a step forward, but Clara immediately placed her hand on her waist.

"I haven't drawn my gun in a while, Antton. And I'm sure if you hit me or even touch me, I won't be the one leaving here injured."

They stared at each other for a moment. He bent down, picked up the open backpack, and laughed.

"I know you still miss that side of the city. I came here because I know you have supplies, and if you won't give them willingly, I don't even need to say more." His gaze shifted toward the Reservoir. "I heard your two buddies are there, so that means you can't protect your stash, can you?"

Clara showed no reaction and laughed at him.

"You found my stash? If you want to steal food, go ahead. You only have today to do it."

Antton chuckled, licking his lips.

"You think my men aren't already there? You can try hiding whatever you want from the old woman and those kids who are just a burden, but not from me." He pointed again, this time locking eyes with her. "I know you, Clara. I won't let you rise above me again."

"As I said, you have only today—not just to steal my food. You have one day to leave for a place where I won't find you."

Antton didn't look scared at all. He simply rested his hand on his waist, his stance open.

"And what do you think will happen? They'll come back and confront us? Do you realize that if one of ours dies, you'll start an open conflict? Is that what you want for the kids and the elders Simone takes care of, Clara?"

"No." She pointed toward the Reservoir. "See that over there? The red number at the top of the Reservoir shows the Felroz, and the blue one is Marcus and Dante."

Antton hadn't been worried until that moment. His expression changed, his eyes darkened, and his posture stiffened. He gripped the backpack more tightly.

"Do you get what I'm saying now?" Clara didn't move at all but saw him take a step back. "You have one day to grab food and never set foot in Kappz again. Because the moment they return, I'll come after you. And don't think that just because we have some history, I'll be merciful. I don't pity scumbags or thieves. So leave now, or I'll personally make you understand why you hate this side of the city, you bastard."