The silence was ended by the faint hum of the city outside. Distant alarms, a car horn blaring, the nervous shuffle of survivors clinging to each other in the gloom.
Nikolai kept his eyes on the street. That faceless thing hadn't moved, but the black slime around its feet was still creeping toward the gutter, devouring everything in its path. He could hear it bubbling through the glass.
He dropped his bent and blunted sword while prepared for battle.
Hungry, patient, inevitable.
Alexei's voice came from the stairwell. "Back's clear. For now."
Brian grunted in acknowledgement, never taking his gaze off the barricaded door.
"How long do you think we can hold out here?"
Nikolai didn't answer.
His mind was racing—calculating the odds, the exits, the likelihood that anyone in this room would see sunrise if they stayed put.
