Chapter 10
The rooftop wind still clawed at their clothes as they stumbled back down the dim maintenance stairwell, the metallic taste of fear thick in their mouths.
The horrific images flashed behind their eyes with every blink.
"What the hell were those things?!" one co-worker gasped, clutching the railing. His face was ashen, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill.
He looked desperately at Elias, seeking sense in the nightmare.
"I don't know either," Elias admitted, his voice rough. His mind raced with terrifying, unanswerable questions.
"But I noticed something," he continued, forcing himself to focus, his analytical mind cutting through the panic. "They hunt like wolves."
He recalled the scene earlier. "But they're far more violent. Savage even." He shuddered, remembering the mangled bodies. "And they dragged their prey back… into that structure. Like a nest."
The group huddled in the dim stairwell landing, the light buzzing. "And what about the light?" another worker whispered, her voice trembling.
"They fear it," Elias confirmed. "Sunlight drives them back, makes them screech. But it doesn't hurt them outright. It's like they're scared of the light."
He paused, letting the implication sink in.
They emerged back inside the mall, where the people had gathered.
People turned expectantly, their faces etched with worry.
Elias and Arnold shared the grim news: the monsters were still out there, hunting survivors, dragging victims back to the spikes, but now they are in hiding because of the sunlight; there aren't any of them outside.
A wave of terrified murmurs swept through the crowd. Children buried their faces in their parents' legs.
Arnold stepped forward. "We must stay here until the government comes and takes us!" he declared, his voice shaky but loud.
But fear for loved ones overrode caution. "You said the sunlight has chased them off, right?" a man shouted, pushing forward, his eyes wild with worry.
"I need to get home! My daughter's all alone at home!" The sharp scent of his desperation cut through the air.
"Me too!" a young woman cried out, her voice cracking. "My parents must be worried about me!" Her hands twisted the fabric of her shirt.
"Me too!"
"We need to get back home!"
The pleas multiplied, rising into a chaotic clamor. The crowd pressed forward, a tide of panic.
Arnold tried to intervene, his voice hoarse. "Please! Wait for official word! The government will announce—"
But the fear was contagious, overwhelming logic itself. The shouts grew louder.
Seeing the sheer number of people determined to leave, Arnold's shoulders slumped in defeat.
He nodded to the guards near the least damaged entrance – the one facing away from the worst carnage.
"Let them go," he said heavily, the words tasting like ash. "Open the doors."
The guards hesitantly unshackled the heavy chains and pushed the doors open. Weak afternoon sunlight streamed in, and I felt deceptively normal.
One by one, then in small groups, people stepped out of the mall. They hesitated for a moment on the threshold, scanning the debris-strewn street, the unnatural twilight sky, and the distant, jagged silhouette of the spike structure.
Then, driven by love and fear, they began to move – some running, others walking cautiously, glancing nervously at every shadow cast by the skeletal remains of buildings.
Inside, watching them go, Elias felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. He looked around at those who remained – perhaps a third of the original crowd.
They stayed rooted to the spot, too afraid of the things that lurked in the shadows to follow the others into the broken world.
The heavy doors swung shut again, the lock clicking with finality, sealing them in their fragile sanctuary.