Chapter 4 Rust Wolves

The night was colder in the Ridge. Wind howled through hollow buildings, whistling like a warning. Every sound echoed louder, like the ruins themselves were listening.

Ryker scanned the path ahead, his boots crunching on broken glass and gravel. Beside him, Lena limped slightly, favoring her right leg. Her energy was fading, but she hadn't complained once.

"We'll stop soon," Ryker said, glancing sideways.

Lena nodded, trying to stay strong, but her eyes were dull with exhaustion. "I can keep going."

"No. You'll collapse if we don't rest." He motioned toward a rusted transport trailer tilted against a wall. "There."

Inside, it smelled like old oil and metal, but it was dry. Ryker secured the door with a chain and positioned himself near the opening, rifle across his lap. Lena curled into a corner, still clutching the data map to her chest like it was part of her.

"What's at Haven Nine?" Ryker finally asked.

"My father said it was a vault," she whispered. "With power. Old technology. Communications that still work. If we can reach it, we can find others... survivors. Maybe even rebuild."

Ryker's expression didn't change, but a flicker of something crossed his eyes-doubt? Hope?

Then they heard it.

A long, low howl.

Lena sat up. "Wolves?"

Ryker shook his head slowly.

"Worse. Rust Wolves. Cyber-hybrids. Scavenger tech with teeth."

Outside, glowing red eyes blinked in the dark.

They were surrounded.