Engines still echoed in his bones long after Zubair punched the truck across the bridge.

Elias sat in the back seat, shoulder pressed against the rattling glass, pulse steady in his throat. His team didn’t need words; they had already read each other’s weight.

Zubair’s hands locked on the wheel, Lachlan’s restless knee bouncing, Alexei’s grin tilting toward something sharp.

And Sera—blood still on her mouth, Luci laying on top of her thighs—looked like she had finally drawn a full breath for the first time in a while.

Everyone in the cab was reaction to her newfound sense of peace, and everyone felt their tension slip away.

But behind them, the hornet’s nest stirred.

Elias angled the mirror.

The riders hadn’t scattered for long. They were regrouping, furious, engines snarling into rhythm like wolves remembering their hunger.

Dirt bikes darted at the edges, trucks hauling muscle, flatbeds with rifles glinting in the sunlight. It wasn’t elegant.

It wasn’t trained.

But it was enough.

The cartel had been order. Ruthless, yes, but polished like a syndicate. A room with ledgers and hierarchy.

The riders were something else entirely—gangsters in the old world’s sense. Knee-jerk, feral, raw. They didn’t plan ten moves ahead; they lunged, snapped, and circled until something broke.

And Sera had humiliated them.

Elias could almost feel the echo of her laugh across the asphalt, blood dripping from her chin while men twice her size backed away.

That kind of spectacle didn’t vanish. It burned itself into memory, and memory demanded revenge.

"They’re coming," he said softly.

"No shit," Lachlan muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He shot Zubair a glare. "You left her standing there."

Zubair’s eyes stayed forward. "She wasn’t in danger."

"She was surrounded—"

"She wasn’t in danger," Zubair repeated, flat, final.

Alexei chuckled from his perch, elbow on the window frame. "And look at her now. Happy as a cat with feathers in her teeth."

Sera didn’t argue. She stretched one hand down to scratch Luci’s ear, the dire wolf’s muzzle still streaked red.

"They tasted bitter," she said, almost thoughtful. "Too much adrenaline and not enough fear. But better than starving."

Elias didn’t flinch.

He had noticed what the others hadn’t—the way her shoulders had eased afterward, the hunger silenced for once.

Zubair had known what she needed before she did. That was the mark of a commander.

The mirror filled again.

Riders swarmed in loose formation, engines rising and falling in waves. Scouts on bikes rode wide, daring, tossing curses across the wind.

Trucks lumbered in the middle, hoods patched with welded scrap, one painted with a grinning skull. Flatbeds rattled in the rear, rifles braced against roll bars.

Not a military column.

A pack.

With a mob mentality.

"They’re not charging yet," Elias noted.

"Why not?" Lachlan’s voice was sharp, edged with the urge to leap from the moving truck.

"They’re testing us." Elias leaned back, feeling the vibrations through the seat. "Cartel would’ve sealed doors and waited for the night to take us out. Riders... they want blood. But not without testing the cost."

Sera’s smile curved faintly. "Let them try."

Zubair adjusted the wheel as the road narrowed to cracked pavement with weeds splitting the seams. He didn’t bother looking at her—he never had to. Her certainty was law enough.

The first test came quick. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Two bikes screamed up the right side, engines guttural, tires spitting gravel.

One rider swung a chain overhead, letting it whistle as he leaned too close to the truck. The second fired a pistol in sloppy arcs, rounds sparking against the asphalt.

"Sloppy," Alexei murmured. He leaned out the window without shifting his grin.

The chain rider swung down, aiming for the side mirror.

Alexei caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted once. The man screamed as his arm bent the wrong way, and then Alexei shoved, letting the momentum carry him into the dirt.

The bike veered sideways, crashing into weeds with a crunch of bone.

The gunman saw it and panicked. He yanked his bike too sharp, tires slipping on loose gravel. Zubair didn’t swerve. The truck clipped him hard enough to send him rolling into the ditch.

Silence followed for a breath.

Then the swarm howled louder.

Elias exhaled through his nose. "They’ll keep coming. Every probe buys them information."

"They’ll run out of bodies before we run out of road," Lachlan shot back.

"No," Elias said, steady. "They’ll learn. That’s worse."

Because that was the truth of predators—they adapted.

Zombies were relentless, storms merciless, but men were clever in ways neither storm nor corpse could be.

The cartel had shown one face of adaptation: order, hierarchy, quiet efficiency. The riders were the other face: chaos pretending to be system. Reaction sharpened into ritual.

And they were watching Sera now like she was fire.

The truck bounced over cracked concrete, sunlight flashing across broken signs.

Fields rolled out on either side, pale stubble of wheat long dead, silos collapsing in rust. Elias tracked the headlights in the mirror.

No rhythm, not yet, but he knew it would come. A pack always found rhythm when blood was in the air.

Sera leaned her head against the glass, eyes still bright from her feast. "They’re too loud," she murmured.

"They want you to hear them," Elias said.

"They want me afraid," she corrected, voice soft with amusement. "They should know better."

Luci huffed against her knee, low growl vibrating like a drumbeat. The dire wolf didn’t fear the engines either.

"They’ll regroup again," Elias warned. "Expect a flank. They’ll throw dirt bikes wide, trucks down the center. When one hits, all will hit."

"Which side?" Zubair asked, calm as always.

"Left," Elias answered after a moment. "The sun blinds on that side."

Zubair nodded once. Adjusted lanes by a handspan.

The men fell silent again. Not tense—focused. This was their center. Sera’s blood still slick on her hands, Luci braced beside her, and the riders behind them, choking on pride and fury.

In the distance, another line of headlights sparked alive. Reinforcements, pulled from some hidden camp.

Elias watched them flicker like fireflies along the horizon. "This won’t end during the day," he said.

Alexei grinned wider, teeth flashing. "Good. I hate short stories."

Lachlan cracked his knuckles against the dashboard, eyes sharp with anticipation. "Then let’s give them one they’ll remember."

Zubair didn’t comment. He just pressed the accelerator a little harder, engine growling into the stretch of ruined road.

Behind them, the hornets’ nest roared.