DEADLINE: Zero Hour

Chapter One – The Last Safe Step

Jaxton Crowe’s boots crunched over shards of glass and cracked concrete, each step echoing in the empty street. His mind drifted back to the group he’d left months ago — the ones who spat him out like trash. Reckless. Useless. He’d smirked, swallowed their contempt, and walked away. Alone, laughter didn’t matter. Survival did.

A low hiss curled from an alley. His hand brushed the worn strap of his knife. Shadows stretched long across the buildings. Nothing moved… yet the air itself felt hungry.

“Jaxton.”

Grey Holt’s calm voice pulled him back. “Move,” Grey said. Not a shout. Not a question. Move.

Jaxton exhaled and fell in line. Todd Avery shuffled beside him, laces scraping the ground, nervous but steadying himself. Nasha Voss led ahead, sleek and deliberate, scanning rooftops and alleys for any sign of movement. Ben Carver trailed slightly, satchel clinking with tools, quiet but watchful.

The ruined plaza sprawled before them — rusted cars tipped on their sides, shattered shopfronts, debris forming jagged barricades. The wind rattled broken signs, carrying low, distant moans. Jaxton could feel the waiting eyes of predators in the air.

“Here,” Grey said, pointing to a gutted café. “Temporary base. Move fast. Barricade.”

Jaxton leaned planks against broken window frames, testing each with a tap. Todd tried to mirror him, clumsily but with determination. Ben reinforced frames with improvised braces, while Nasha scanned the perimeter, sharp eyes catching every shift in the shadows. Grey moved with calm precision, making sure everything was secure.

Hours passed. Doors were blocked. Windows secured.

Jaxton stepped back, knife sheathed, heart pounding. The café smelled of dust and metal, the fading sun casting long, uneven shadows. Outside, the wind carried moans, the city holding its breath.

“Night’s coming,” Grey said, voice calm. “Sleep in shifts. Stay alert.”

Jaxton smirked. Quiet could mean anything. Every shadow might hide teeth. Every sound could be death. Good, he thought. Let them come.

The group moved toward a cleared corner for a small fire. Todd fumbled with kindling while Ben coaxed a spark to life. Nasha gathered scraps for a perimeter, Grey watched over them, and Jaxton leaned against a wall, letting the warmth reach him.

“Think this fire makes us look heroic?” Jaxton asked, kicking at a log.

Todd snorted. “Heroic? More like a group of desperate people trying not to get eaten.”

Nasha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because nothing screams hero like burning sticks and dust-covered shirts.”

Ben chuckled. “Hey, if we survive the night, we can be epic tomorrow. Tonight we’re just… moderately competent.”

Grey smiled. “Moderately competent is a good start. I’ll take it.”

Jaxton smirked, leaning back. “Fine. But tomorrow, I’m claiming hero points for not screaming at every shadow.”

Todd grinned nervously. “I’ll take ‘least likely to scream’ credits too. Maybe we can split them.”