The first one came from the left.
It burst through the fog in a blur of pale limbs, jagged claws scraping against asphalt. Daniel barely had time to swing before Lena's knife flashed beside him, catching the creature across the throat. Black fluid hissed against the air before it dissolved into dust.
But there were more.
The fog split in three places at once. Shapes lunged—too fast, too quiet, their bodies bending at wrong angles.
"Spread!" Lena barked.
Briggs moved like he'd done this a hundred times. His crowbar crushed into a Hollow's ribs with a wet crack. The creature shrieked and clawed, but Briggs shoved his bulk into it, pinning it against a ruined wall until it melted into ash.
Marco wasn't as steady. His pipe shook in his grip as another Hollow darted toward him. The swing he threw was wild, missing by a mile. The thing lunged—
Daniel's Mark flared. His body jerked forward before his mind caught up. The world slowed again. He saw the Hollow's jaw unhinge, teeth too long, saliva black as oil. He stepped into its path, shoved Marco aside, and drove the rebar upward through the thing's mouth.
It convulsed. A shriek rattled his skull. Then it dissolved, showering him with dust.
Marco collapsed against the wall, eyes wide, breathing fast. "You— you saved—"
"Shut up and move!" Lena snapped. She cut down another Hollow with brutal precision, her knife darting like a surgeon's hand. She didn't fight with strength she fought with intent, every strike aimed for a weak point.
Daniel's chest burned hot, the Echo Mark feeding him strength and speed, but also… something else. His fingers twitched with restless energy. His jaw ached from clenching too tight. The shimmer from the last kill still clung to his mind like smoke, pulling at the edges of his thoughts.
"Three more!" Briggs shouted, pointing.
The fog writhed. Shapes closed in.
Daniel tightened his grip. "We hold here?"
Lena glanced at him, eyes sharp. "No. We move."
She darted into the fog, cutting down another Hollow before it could lunge. Briggs followed with a roar, crowbar swinging in wide arcs. Daniel hauled Marco to his feet and pushed him forward.
"Stay close. Swing when you have to."
Marco nodded, pale but determined.
They moved as a unit, cutting through the fog, every step a gamble. Hollows lunged from shadows, shrieking, claws raking. The air filled with dust and black fluid, the ground slick with it.
Daniel fought like a man drowning every movement borrowed from the Mark, every strike a desperate gamble. He ducked, swung, stabbed, always one second faster than he thought he could be.
And always, when the Hollows died, the shimmer came.
It sank into him whether he wanted it or not. His chest burned, his skin prickled, and the fragments pressed against his mind flashes of hunger, of running on all fours, of clawing through flesh. He pushed them down, teeth gritted.
Not me. Not yet.
The last Hollow came straight for Marco. The kid raised his pipe, but his arms trembled too much to hold it steady.
Daniel lunged again, but Lena was faster. She shoved Marco aside, drove her knife under the creature's jaw, and twisted. It crumpled into ash.
Silence.
The group stood panting in the fog, weapons slick, clothes streaked with dust and black stains.
Briggs spat to the side. "Messy."
"Alive," Lena corrected. Her eyes swept the group. No injuries just exhaustion. She wiped her blade on her jacket. "We move before more come."
Marco still shook, staring at the dust on the ground. "I almost "
"You almost died," Briggs cut in flatly. "And almost got us killed with you."
"Enough," Lena snapped. She turned to Daniel. Her gaze lingered on him, sharp, calculating. "You move like someone who's killed more than one."
Daniel stiffened. "I've… had to."
Her eyes flicked to his chest, where the faint glow of the Mark pulsed beneath his shirt. She didn't comment but she noticed.
Briggs noticed too. His lip curled in something between respect and suspicion.
Marco finally looked at Daniel, gratitude and awe in his wide eyes. "You saved me. Twice."
Daniel forced a thin smile. "Try not to make it a habit."
A small laugh escaped Marco, shaky but real. It was the first sound of something almost human Daniel had heard since the Collapse.
Lena cut it short. "We're burning daylight. There's a safe zone a few miles east, if it's still standing. We move fast, we make it by nightfall."
Daniel glanced at the fog shifting around them. The Mark burned faintly, restless. He wasn't sure the word "safe" meant anything here anymore.
But for now, moving together beat standing still.
He picked up his rebar, adjusted his grip, and fell into step.
Behind them, the fog closed in, erasing the battlefield like it had never happened.