Ralphie woke to growling. Dim lantern light in their new shack carved menacing shadows. Nigel slept beside Blanka; he probably hadn’t rested in days.

  Shit, the fire is nearly out.

  A scratch, wood splintering—he sat up so fast he nearly tripped on his blanket.

  "There's something out there," Nigel said, rubbing his eyes.

  The far wall vanished. An enormous, misshapen wolf appeared, licked its chops, and howled, shaking Ralphie’s bones. Blanka drew a weapon from behind her back and fired at the beast’s head. The wolf staggered, then charged at the group. Nigel grabbed a heavy chair and hurled it at the wolf; the chair bounced off harmlessly. Ralphie snatched his slingshot from his belt, his palms sweaty, loaded a metal ball, and grimaced as each shot struck the wolf’s hide.

  "Stand back," Benson said.

  Ralphie looked everywhere—the old man was gone. Suddenly, flame erupted behind the creature, igniting its fur. Engulfed in fire, it kept coming.

  What in the hell is driving this beast, and why does it want a piece of us?

  A spear stabbed its hindquarters. People attacked from the rear. Ralphie glimpsed Benson’s face as he clubbed the beast with torches. Ilya was stabbed with a spear. The creature howled—Ralphie couldn’t hear for a moment. The beast leaped at him. Ralphie closed his eyes, bracing for death—instead, a blow to his ribs reminded him he was still alive.

  The forest reacted violently. Hundreds of howls rolled through the dark. Flickering shapes churned among trembling trees. Red, glowing eyes gleamed and danced in desperate patterns.

  The first wolf they had felled lay smoking in the dirt before them. That first attack seemed utterly insignificant as the onslaught of terrors greeted them from the shadows.

  Nigel took a position beside Ralphie, his gaze fixed on the oncoming horde, and slowly aimed his gun, muscles taut.

  “That…,” he muttered quietly, “is a problem.”

  Blanka crouched behind a crate, chambering a round from the supply rifle, jaw set.

  “Problem?” she said.

  The first wave burst from the foliage. Colossal wolves crashed from the undergrowth, grotesque and unnatural. Some bore metal plating fused to their skulls; others, rib cages reinforced by jagged iron.

  Their red eyes seared the night.

  “Positions!” Benson roared.

  The old man’s voice cut through the panic like a blade.

  Men and women poured out of the camp’s ramshackle buildings, grabbing whatever weapons they had.

  Rifles.

  Axes.

  Spears.

  A few battered shotguns.

  Someone rang the old steel bell near the watchtower.

  CLANG.

  CLANG.

  CLANG.

  The alarm reverberated across the camp.

  “Barricades!” Benson shouted.

  Carts and scrap metal barricaded the fence line. Torches illuminated the battlefield.

  Sally braced atop a battered truck, swinging the mounted machine gun into position.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Let’s see how many of you things want to die tonight!” she yelled.

  The wolves hit the barricade like a tidal wave.

  Gunfire erupted.

  The machine gun roared first.

  Sally opened up.

  The machine gun thundered, shredding the front ranks. Wolves tumbled, metal skulls sparking.

  But more leaped over their bodies.

  Blanka fired in controlled bursts beside Nigel.

  Each shot dropped another creature.

  Yet the pack surged on.

  A monstrous wolf crashed into the outer fence, snapping the wooden beams like twigs.

  Villagers rushed forward with spears.

  They drove the weapon into the beast’s throat.

  It collapsed—but another immediately took its place.

  The ground quaked.

  A second wave erupted from the forest.

  These creatures were worse.

  Some had entire steel skulls.

  Others had mechanical limbs.

  One enormous bear-like creature charged forward with glowing red optics embedded in its faceplate.

  “What the hell are those things?!” Ralphie shouted.

  Nigel fired his blaster.

  Blue energy cracked through the air and blasted a hole through the creature’s chest.

  It kept coming.

  “Oh, that’s not good,” Nigel muttered.

  Ralphie loaded another ball bearing into his slingshot.

  His hands shook, but he fired anyway.

  CRACK.

  The metal sphere struck a glowing eye.

  A wolf crashed to the earth mid-leap.

  “Nice shot!” Sally called from the truck.

  The machine gun thundered again.

  Bodies piled up along the barricade. Still, the pack did not stop. Moments later, something larger moved among the trees.

  The wolves parted.

  The forest itself seemed to quake and shudder. An enormous creature stepped into the firelight—nearly twice the size of the others. Its entire skull was encased in polished steel. Rows of glowing red lenses lined its spine like a crown of eyes.

  Its jaws opened, and a mechanical growl reverberated, and the ground shook. Every natural beast in the forest fell silent as the creature roared. The wolves surged forward again.

  The second wave was more vicious and hungrier, smashing into the barricade with such force that it cracked, splintered, and then shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Creatures poured into the camp as pandemonium erupted. Agonized howls settled over everything like a wet blanket.

  “Watch out,” Blanka said as she hurled herself into the path of a wolf lunging for Nigel.

  Ralphie watched in horror as she grabbed its fur and drove a knife into the gap between skull and neck.

  Sally’s gun overheated and jammed.

  “Damn it!”

  She grabbed a shotgun from the truck and leaped down, landing ready.

  Benson smashed a torch into a wolf’s face and fired his revolver into its throat.

  Villagers fought with everything they had.

  Axes split skulls.

  Spears broke.

  People shrieked.

  Buildings caught fire as beasts crashed through them.

  The camp was being demolished.

  Nigel reached out and grabbed Ralphie by the arm, pulling him behind the nearest barricade. Both of them ducked low to avoid stray fire from the ongoing battle.

  “You stay close to me!”

  A massive wolf leaped over the wall.

  Blanka fired.

  The creature slammed into the dirt at her feet.

  But then the boss creature charged.

  The ground shook.

  It smashed through the burning shack like a battering ram.

  People scattered.

  Sally fired both barrels of her shotgun.

  The blasts barely slowed its charge.

  Its jaws snapped around a villager, hurling him aside like a rag doll.

  “Take it down!” Benson shouted.

  Everyone fired.

  Rifles.

  Shotguns.

  Nigel’s blaster.

  Blanka’s rifle.

  The creature staggered under the barrage.

  But it did not topple.

  It roared again.

  The remaining wolves surged forward in a final frenzy.

  Glimpses of weapons, fur, teeth, bloodied skin, and moonlight obscured his vision.

  Ralphie fired his slingshot with the desperate hope that he would hit only the flurried frenzy.

  Nigel let out a cry as his gun’s barrel turned into a crimson glow of death.

  Blanka fought like a storm of steel and gunfire.

  Sally reloaded and blasted another wolf off its feet.

  Benson rallied the remaining villagers.

  “Hold the line!”

  At last, the boss creature turned toward Nigel.

  Its glowing eyes locked onto him.

  It charged.

  Nigel raised the blaster.

  It sputtered.

  Empty.

  “Uh oh.”

  The monster leaped.

  Ralphie acted without thinking.

  He loaded one last steel ball.

  Pulled the slingshot back as far as he could.

  And fired.

  The ball bearing shot forward like a bullet.

  It struck the narrow gap between the metal skull plates.

  Right into one glowing eye.

  The creature shrieked.

  Nigel saw a fallen spear nearby. He lunged for it, gripped it tightly in both hands, and positioned himself with the weapon, ready to strike the charging creature.

  “Now!”

  Blanka fired two rounds into the wound.

  Sally blasted its shoulder.

  Benson drove a torch into its face.

  Nigel rammed the spear straight into its skull.

  The boss creature collapsed. The surviving wolves scattered into the darkness. Silence fell, broken only by the burning camp. Half the buildings were destroyed, and the rest were on fire. Bodies lay everywhere. Dark patches pooled under the dead. Bile hit Ralphie’s throat—he thought he might lose his supper.

  The barricades were gone. Tears stung Ralphie’s eyes as he watched survivors search the wreckage. Benson used his rifle as a crutch.

  “We won this battle, but at what cost?” he asked in a low tone.

  Nigel put a hand on Ralphie’s shoulder.

  “You saved us.”

  Ralphie stared in disbelief at the carnage.

  Blanka wiped blood from her face.

  Sally kicked a dead wolf aside.

  The camp had survived, but it was broken, and Ralphie hoped they could recover to fight another day.

  The forest was still out there.

  Watching.

  Waiting.