The sun had barely risen when they started digging graves.
Four bodies wrapped in blankets. Ellis, Lorna, and two others whose names were whispered in broken voices. The ground was frozen hard, every strike of the shovel sending shocks through tired arms. Some wept quietly. Others stared blankly, too numb to cry.
Sarah stood with the others, arms wrapped around herself. She hadn't known Ellis well, but she remembered the way he'd hummed while welding, off-key but warm. Now he was nothing but a name carved in her memory.
Michael worked without pause, his face grim, jaw set. He said nothing as the bodies were lowered, only stood with his hand pressed to the rifle at his chest. His silence was worse than words.
They were still covering the graves when the shot rang out.
It cracked through the air, sharp and mean. A bullet slammed into the dam wall with a metallic clang. Then another.
Raiders.
They came out of the trees in ragged lines, a dozen at least. Some wore scavenged armor metal plates strapped to jackets, bones hanging from belts. Others carried Molotovs, axes, or battered rifles. They shouted as they came, their voices wild with hunger and greed.
"They heard the fight last night," Tommy spat, pulling his rifle to his shoulder. "They think we're weak."
Michael's eyes narrowed. "Then we show them we're not."
The dam erupted again.
Survivors scrambled for cover, firing from behind the walls. Arrows hissed from the towers. Raiders answered with gunfire, bullets sparking off steel and shattering against concrete. One Molotov burst against the gate, flames licking the welded cars.
Michael leaned over the wall and dropped two men with precise shots. Kyle hurled a grenade salvaged from the Firefly outpost, the explosion tearing through three raiders at once. Alice swung her cleaver when a raider tried to scale the wall, splitting his head open before shoving him back into the dark water below.
But the raiders kept coming.
They were desperate, and desperation made them fearless.
In the chaos, Sarah found herself pinned behind a chunk of broken concrete, bullets sparking inches away. Her hands shook around the wooden bat she carried, its barbed wire biting into her palms. She wasn't supposed to be here. Michael had told her to stay back. But when the raiders rushed, there was no time to hide.
A man vaulted the barricade in front of her, knife raised. His teeth were yellow, his eyes wide with madness. Sarah swung without thinking. The bat cracked into his jaw with a sickening crunch, blood spraying across her face. He collapsed, screaming, the knife clattering from his hand.
Sarah's breath hitched. Her arms trembled. But she raised the bat again.
Another raider charged. She swung harder this time. The barbed wire tore flesh, the bat stuck, and she yanked it free with a cry. The raider fell and didn't rise.
Across the line, survivors saw her. They saw the girl standing her ground, face pale but eyes blazing. And it gave them strength.
The fight dragged on.
A raider's bullet caught Tomas one of the hunters in the chest. He gasped, choking blood, before collapsing in his brother's arms. A Molotov burst inside the wall, setting a tent ablaze. Families scrambled to smother it while gunfire thundered around them.
Michael fought like a storm. Rifle cracks, axe swings, knife thrusts precise, brutal, unrelenting. But even he felt the weight. His arms ached, his vision swam. He'd fought all night against the infected, and now he was fighting men who were worse.
Then the raider leader pushed forward.
He was a giant, clad in scavenged riot armor, an antlered skull lashed to his helmet. He carried a shotgun in one hand, a cleaver in the other. His voice boomed above the chaos.
"Kill them all! Take the dam!"
He charged the gate, shotgun roaring. Metal sparked as the rounds slammed into the barricade. Survivors ducked, some screaming, others firing back to little effect.
Michael met him at the breach.
The giant swung his cleaver down, sparks flying as Michael blocked with his axe. The force rattled his arms to the bone. The shotgun fired again, pellets peppering the wall inches from his face.
Michael twisted, driving his knee into the man's chest, shoving him back. The leader snarled and came again.
"Die with the rest!" he roared.
But Michael was already moving. He slammed the electric axe into the man's side, current crackling as the blade bit through armor. The raider convulsed, screaming, before Michael wrenched the axe free and buried it in his neck.
The giant collapsed, blood pooling at Michael's boots.
The fight broke then.
Leaderless, the raiders faltered. Some fired blindly. Others screamed and fled into the trees. A few tried to climb the walls, only to be cut down by arrows or hurled back into the river.
By the time the sun broke over the ridge, the dam was littered with bodies. Raiders sprawled across the ground, blood soaking into the soil. Survivors stood shaking, faces pale with shock and exhaustion.
They had won.
But it didn't feel like victory.
The cost was written in the dirt.
Tomas was gone. Two more lay dead, their bodies pulled from the flames. Several others bled from bullet wounds, their moans echoing across the hall.
Sarah sat on the steps, bat still in her hands. Blood was smeared across her cheek. Her eyes stared at nothing. Alice knelt beside her, gently prying the bat from her fingers.
"You did good, kid," Alice whispered. "You're still here. That's what matters."
Sarah swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I don't… I don't feel good."
Alice's voice cracked. "Nobody does. That's how you know you're still human."
Michael stood over them, his axe dripping, his face like stone. He scanned the survivors, the walls, the smoking fires. Every death pressed into him like a blade.
The dam had held again. But at a cost that felt heavier with each sunrise.
And somewhere in the trees, Michael knew, others had heard the gunfire.
The infected would come again. Raiders would come again the only question was when.