They made it to the roof just as the last light of dusk bled across the ruined skyline. The city stretched before them—broken towers like jagged teeth, streets crawling with shadows. Smoke curled from distant fires.
Ben collapsed against a crumbling ledge, chest heaving. "If… this is surviving…" He coughed, "…I don't think I'm cut out for it."
Lena scanned the horizon, her expression cold, calculating. "You are. You just don't believe it yet."
Ben wanted to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her instead—the way she stood, blade at her side, as if she belonged in this wasteland. Like she had always belonged.
Before he could ask the question burning in his chest—Who are you, really?—a sharp sound cracked the air.
Not a growl. Not a moan.
A whistle.
Both froze.
From the opposite rooftop, figures emerged—shadows against the orange sky. At least six of them. Human. Armed. Their eyes glinted with something sharper than hunger.
Survivors.
One of them raised a makeshift rifle, its barrel trained directly on Ben and Lena.
"Don't move!" a rough voice barked across the gap. "Hands where we can see 'em!"
Ben's gut clenched. For a moment, he almost preferred the mutants.
Lena didn't flinch. She raised her hands slowly, blade still sheathed at her hip. Her voice was calm, steady. "We're not your enemies."
The rifleman laughed, the sound ugly in the fading light. "Out here, everyone's an enemy until proven otherwise."
Another figure stepped forward—a tall man with a scar running from jaw to temple. He studied them in silence, his gaze lingering on Ben. Something about the look made Ben's skin crawl.
Then the scarred man smiled.
"Well, well," he said. "Fresh blood. And one of them looks… special." His eyes flicked to Ben again, sharper this time. "Bring them."
Two of his men vanished down the stairwell, heading toward their building.
Lena's hand brushed against Ben's, a silent warning. Be ready.
Ben's chest tightened, the fire inside him stirring again. He didn't know if these people were allies, opportunists… or something far worse.
But one thing was clear.
The monsters outside weren't the only ones hunting.