The ravine was eerily silent as Ethan, Dakota, Mason, and Kyle approached the ruined campsite. The scattered remains of the tents, claw marks on the trees, and blood splattered on the rocks told a story of violent destruction.

“Spread out,” Ethan whispered, gripping his baton tightly. “But stay close enough to back each other up.”

The air was heavy with the scent of decay, a putrid tang that made Kyle gag. Mason muttered a curse under his breath, his eyes darting to every shadow.

Then the growl came.

Low, guttural, and filled with menace, it echoed from the underbrush. The group froze, weapons raised. Slowly, two glowing-eyed coyotes emerged, their bodies twitching unnaturally. Their fur was patchy and matted with dried blood, their exposed teeth yellow and cracked. One had a gaping wound in its side, but it moved as if it felt no pain.

“They’re not scared of us,” Dakota muttered, his grip tightening on his crowbar.

“They don’t feel fear,” Ethan said, his voice cold. “They only know hunger.”

Without warning, the first coyote charged. It moved like a blur, leaping toward Mason with its jaws wide. Mason barely had time to scream before Dakota stepped in, swinging his crowbar with all his strength. The impact shattered the creature’s jaw with a sickening crunch, sending blood and teeth flying.

The second coyote lunged at Ethan. He dodged to the side, bringing his baton down on its spine. The creature yelped, twisting unnaturally as it snapped at him. Its teeth grazed his arm, tearing through the fabric of his hoodie and drawing blood.

“Behind you!” Kyle shouted.

Another coyote, larger than the first two, barreled out of the bushes, slamming into Ethan and knocking him to the ground. Its claws raked his chest, drawing deep gashes as it snarled and snapped at his face. Ethan gritted his teeth, shoving his baton into its mouth to keep its jaws from closing on him.

Dakota roared, swinging his crowbar into the creature’s ribcage. The force sent it sprawling off Ethan, its ribs collapsing inward with a wet crack. Blood sprayed across Dakota’s face, but he didn’t stop. He drove the crowbar down again and again, pulverizing the coyote’s skull into a gory mess of fur, bone, and brain matter.

Mason screamed as the first coyote, still alive despite its broken jaw, latched onto his leg. Its teeth sank into his calf, tearing through muscle as it thrashed violently. Blood poured onto the dirt, pooling beneath him.

“Get it off me!” Mason shrieked, clawing at the ground.

Kyle charged, his bat swinging in a wild arc. The nails embedded in the wood caught the creature’s flank, ripping flesh and fur away in a spray of blood. The coyote released Mason and turned on Kyle, snarling through its ruined jaw.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Not today, you son of a—!” Kyle brought the bat down on its head, the nails puncturing its skull with a sickening squelch. He pulled the bat free with a wet, sucking sound, bits of brain and gore clinging to the weapon.

Mason groaned, clutching his bleeding leg. “It bit me. Oh god, it bit me!”

“You’ll live,” Ethan said, hauling Mason to his feet. “But you need to move.”

The final coyote, the one with the gaping wound in its side, let out a piercing howl and charged at Dakota. It leapt, its claws outstretched, aiming for his throat.

Ethan acted on instinct. He hurled his baton, the metal rod spinning through the air before striking the creature mid-leap. The impact knocked it off course, but it landed heavily, skidding to a stop before lunging again.

Dakota met it head-on. He drove the crowbar into its throat, the sharp end piercing through skin and muscle. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying Dakota’s hands as the creature thrashed violently. He twisted the crowbar, severing its windpipe before yanking it free. The coyote collapsed, choking on its own blood as it twitched and died.

For a moment, the ravine was silent except for the group’s ragged breathing and the faint gurgling of the dying coyotes. Blood stained the ground, their clothes, and their weapons.

“Everyone okay?” Ethan asked, his voice hoarse.

“Define okay,” Mason groaned, limping as Kyle helped him stand.

Dakota wiped blood from his face, his hands shaking. “That... was insane.”

“This is what we’re up against,” Ethan said, crouching to extract a glowing core from the largest coyote’s chest. He held it up, the faint yellow light casting eerie shadows. “And it’s only going to get worse.”

The next day at school, Ethan’s reputation was in shreds, and Jake Cooper was eager to exploit it. He cornered Ethan near the lockers with his usual entourage, sneering.

“Graves,” Jake said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I heard you’ve been out playing in the woods. What’s next? Living in a cave?”

Ethan ignored him, moving to open his locker. Jake slammed it shut.

“I’m talking to you, freak,” Jake said, his grin widening. “You think you’re so tough now? Let’s see you prove it.”

Ethan turned slowly, his eyes cold. “You don’t want this, Jake.”

Jake laughed, shoving Ethan hard. “What are you gonna do, huh? Call your big brother?”

Before Ethan could respond, Dakota appeared, his presence commanding. “He doesn’t need to call me,” Dakota said, stepping between them. “I’m already here.”

Jake froze, his smirk faltering. “This isn’t your business, Dakota.”

“It is when you mess with my brother,” Dakota said, his voice sharp. “You’ve had your fun for years, Jake. But it ends now.”

Jake bristled, but before he could respond, Ethan stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension. “You think you’re tough, Jake? You don’t know what tough is. Tough is watching people die because they’re not ready. Tough is fighting for your life against monsters that want to tear you apart.”

Jake blinked, caught off guard by Ethan’s intensity. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ethan said. “And when you do, you’ll wish you’d listened.”

With that, Ethan and Dakota walked away, leaving Jake and his friends stunned.

That evening, the group regrouped at Mason’s garage. Mason sat with his leg bandaged, grimacing as he adjusted his position.

“We barely made it out of there,” Kyle said, his voice shaky. “Those things... they weren’t normal.”

“They’re not,” Ethan said, pacing. “And we’re going to see worse. That’s why we keep pushing. No excuses.”

Dakota cleaned his crowbar, the blood-streaked metal glinting in the dim light. “You think we’re ready for what’s coming?”

“Not yet,” Ethan admitted. “But we will be. One fight at a time.”

----------------------------------------

Time Until Cataclysm: 229 Days, 6 Hours, 42 Minutes.