Chapter 7: The Problem with People

  The aftermath of the battle settled in heavy silence. The adrenaline that had fuelled them moments ago was quickly fading, leaving behind the stark reality of their losses.

  Sky knelt beside the fallen man, her shoulders trembling as she let out a quiet sob. The others stood around in sombre silence, some looking away, others staring blankly at the body as if struggling to comprehend it. Death had already become a reality of this new world, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  Raven exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. One moment he was fighting, the next it was over—just like that. He hadn’t known the guy, didn’t even know his name, but something about the senselessness of it pissed him off. One moment he was fighting, and the next gone. Just like that.

  Brad, ever the leader, sighed and ran a hand through his hair before stepping away. “We need to check on the other guy,” he muttered, already moving toward the man who had been thrown by the goblin leader’s attack.

  Raven followed, stepping around the bodies that littered the pavement. The man groaned weakly, shifting as they approached. His face was pale, drawn tight with pain, but his chest rose and fell—he was alive.

  “You still with us?” Brad asked, crouching beside him.

  The man grimaced, sucking in a breath. “Feel like I got hit by a damn truck,” he rasped, one arm weakly clutching his ribs.

  Raven knelt beside him, scanning his injuries. No visible wounds, but his breathing was shallow and pained. “Probably cracked ribs,” he said, glancing at Brad. “Might be worse.”

  Brad nodded; expression unreadable. “Can you move?”

  The man let out a short, humourless chuckle. “Not by myself.”

  Brad sighed. “Figures.”

  Raven rolled his shoulders, already feeling the weight of fatigue pressing down on him. They didn’t have time to waste, but leaving someone behind wasn’t an option. He glanced back at Sky, who still hadn’t moved from the fallen man’s side.

  They had to keep moving.

  Raven wasted no time retrieving Darryl. But as he reached the wheelbarrow, a flicker of dread tugged at his gut. What if he was already too late? He found the wheelbarrow right where he left it, nestled behind a skip bin, its occupant deathly still. His breathing was shallow, and the dark lines of poison creeping from the wound seemed more pronounced in the dimming light. Every second counted. With a grunt, Raven adjusted Darryl’s position and gripped the handles, pushing forward as steadily as he could.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the group was getting their wounded man to his feet. He swayed unsteadily but managed to limp forward with Sky supporting one side and another member of the group bracing the other. No one spoke as they resumed their journey, but their collective exhaustion was palpable.

  As they pressed toward the hospital, signs of the city’s unravelling became even more apparent. Cars abandoned mid-street; doors flung open as if their owners had fled in a panic. Some places bore signs of looting, shop windows shattered, and shelves emptied. It wasn’t just the monsters they had to worry about—people were growing desperate.

  Then came the goblins.

  The first few they spotted were scavengers, picking through the remains of the dead. The group tried to remain unseen, moving carefully along the edges of the street. But stealth had its limits, and it wasn’t long before they stumbled upon a patrol.

  It was a messy fight. Weary from their previous battle, they struggled to keep formation. Raven used his bow to pick off goblins from a distance, but his shots weren’t as clean as before, his aim dulled by fatigue. Sky and Brad led the charge in melee, their strikes hitting with desperation rather than precision. One of the goblins managed to scrape a blade along Sky’s arm before being pierced by Brad's makeshift spear.

  They pushed forward. The goblins were increasing in number. Each fight left them more drained, and each street felt like it held more of the creatures than the last.

  By the time they were close enough to see the hospital in the distance, they had all but abandoned stealth, choosing instead to move quickly before another encounter could drain them further. Raven gestured for them to stop at the mouth of an alleyway.

  “I’ll go ahead,” he said, catching his breath. “Check out the situation.”

  Brad wiped the sweat from his brow, looking reluctant, but he nodded. “Be quick.”

  Raven set Darryl down against the wall. A flicker of guilt tightened his chest—leaving Darryl behind, even briefly, felt like betrayal. But they needed eyes on the enemy. He hesitated, looking down at the man, before turning and moving swiftly toward a vantage point. He found a partially collapsed balcony in a nearby building and climbed his way up, careful not to attract attention.

  What he saw made his stomach sink.

  The hospital checkpoint was still standing, but it was surrounded. Dozens of goblins filled the plaza outside the main entrance, moving in controlled groups, using cover to protect themselves from the police barricade. It wasn’t just the usual small goblins—there were at least half a dozen of the larger ones, their crude armour giving them a slightly more formidable appearance.

  But what really caught Raven’s attention was the one leading them.

  It was different. Bigger—easily standing head and shoulders above the rest, its frame bulkier and more defined. It wasn’t rushing forward like the others. Instead, it stood at the rear, watching, barking orders in its guttural tongue. Its movements were deliberate, its tactics clearly more advanced.

  A leader.

  Raven exhaled slowly, trying to process what he was seeing. If they wanted to make it into the hospital alive, they needed a plan.

  He climbed back down and hurried toward the group, already thinking of what to do next.

  Raven returned to the group, his mind already working through the possibilities. There weren’t many. The hospital was surrounded, and that thing—whatever it was—wasn’t just another goblin. It was commanding the others, coordinating their attacks. The police had held out so far, but how long would their ammunition last?

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  Brad crossed his arms, his expression set in an impatient scowl. “Well?”

  “It’s bad,” Raven admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “The hospital’s holding, but they’re pinned down. The goblins aren’t just rushing them blindly. They’ve got a leader—a big bastard who’s actually directing them. Looks like he’s making the officers waste their ammo.”

  A ripple of unease passed through the group. Sky’s eyes flickered toward the hospital, worry tightening her features.

  “So what’s the plan?” Brad asked, his tone sharp. “You got us this far.”

  Raven exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “There’s a rooftop overlooking the plaza. If I can get up there, I can thin their numbers. If we barricade the stairs and windows, the only way up is the fire escape. That’ll create a choke point. If they come for me, you guys hold the stairs and take them out.”

  Brad let out a huff, crossing his arms. “And if too many come?”

  “Then we run,” Raven said simply.

  Brad scoffed. “That’s your plan? Shoot some arrows and hope for the best?”

  Raven’s lip curled slightly. The guy hadn’t offered a better idea, and criticism was easy when you weren’t the one taking the shot.

  Raven clenched his jaw, irritation flaring. “You got a better idea?”

  Brad opened his mouth, then hesitated. His jaw worked for a moment, but no words came. He didn’t have a plan.

  Sky stepped between them, placing a hand on Brad’s arm. “It’s a solid plan,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “The goblins aren’t just going to let us waltz into the hospital. This at least gives us a fighting chance.”

  Brad exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Fine. But if it goes south, we bail.”

  Raven nodded, suppressing the urge to smirk. “That’s the idea.”

  With the plan set, they gathered what little they had and moved toward the building. Time was running out, and if they wanted to make it to the hospital alive, they had to move fast.

  The group moved quickly, sticking to the alley behind the building Raven had pointed out. They split up according to the plan—Sky, Raven, and another man named William slipped inside to barricade the doors and windows, while Brad and the rest worked to narrow the choke point, using anything they could find to slow any goblins that might try to swarm the fire escape.

  Inside the building, the air was thick with dust, and through the cracked windows came the faint sounds of distant shouting and the occasional clash of metal—reminders that danger was never far behind. and the shelves were mostly bare—either looted or abandoned long before the Reckoning. The place had the eerie stillness of a world left behind. Raven moved through the aisles, pushing fallen furniture and metal racks against the glass windows. Sky helped, working silently, her face set in grim focus.

  Raven stole a glance at her. It had been a long time since they’d spoken, and now wasn’t exactly the moment for heart-to-hearts, but something about the way she carried herself made him hesitate. She wasn’t the same as she had been before. None of them were.

  "Brad’s a bit of a dick," Raven muttered as he shoved a heavy display shelf against the front doors.

  Sky huffed a tired laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah. He’s... got his own way of doing things." She adjusted a metal rack, wedging it tight between a window and the checkout counter. "I don’t really know him that well. He just—he got people together when everything went to hell. Saved a few lives. People started listening to him, so he took charge."

  Raven frowned. "And you trust him?"

  Sky sighed, dusting off her hands as she turned to face him. "I don't know. But people need something. Not just hope—something that looks like control. Brad gives them that. For now."

  Raven grunted, looking away. He understood the sentiment, but he didn’t like it. Trusting the wrong person got people killed. He’d seen it before and knew better.

  They finished reinforcing the last of the windows, securing the shelving in place. The building was as fortified as it was going to get. With a final glance around, Sky and Raven made their way outside to regroup with the others.

  With the final barricades in place, the group gathered in the alley behind the building, going over the plan one last time. The hospital was still under siege, and time was running out. Raven adjusted his grip on his bow, his fingers twitching with tension. Every part of him buzzed with a mix of dread and determination, double-checking his quiver. He had enough arrows to make a dent in the goblin forces, but not enough to take out all of them.

  Brad cracked his knuckles, still looking annoyed. “So you get up high, shoot what you can, and we hold the ground?”

  Raven nodded. “If they notice me, they’ll send some of their own to investigate. That’s where you come in. You hold the fire escape, keep them bottlenecked. If it gets too bad, we regroup and run.”

  Sky shot a wary glance toward the hospital. “And if they send the big one?”

  Raven shrugged, feigning confidence he didn’t feel. “We deal with it when it happens.”

  Brad muttered something under his breath, but didn’t argue further.

  With that, Raven turned and climbed the fire escape, scaling the side of the building as quietly as possible. The metal groaned under his weight, but he moved quickly, keeping low as he reached the rooftop. The city stretched out before him, eerily quiet save for the distant cries of battle. He crawled toward the edge and positioned himself behind a rusted air conditioning unit, peering down at the scene below.

  The goblins were still pressing the hospital, their numbers shifting in organized waves. The large one—their leader—stood at the back, directing them with sharp gestures and guttural commands. It wasn’t rushing in like the rest. It was thinking.

  Raven exhaled slowly, nocking an arrow. No more waiting.

  He let the first shot fly, striking a goblin square in the chest. It dropped instantly, and before the others could react, he fired again, hitting another. The goblins froze for a moment before scrambling for cover. Raven’s breath caught—he hadn’t expected them to panic so quickly. Was it fear? Or were they regrouping?

  He kept shooting, moving between cover to avoid being an easy target. The goblins returned fire, slinging rocks in his direction. He ducked behind an old ventilation duct as one smashed against the metal, denting it. They were getting smarter. But he was faster.

  Arrow after arrow, goblins fell, their numbers thinning in the plaza. The hospital doors remained shut, the officers inside surely realizing that something had changed.

  Then he saw it.

  The leader had stopped giving orders. Raven squinted, momentarily unsure if what he was seeing was real. Was it regrouping? Repositioning? Or had it spotted him? It grabbed a handful of goblins, including two of the mid-sized ones—and barked something sharp in its harsh, clicking tongue. Without hesitation, the group turned toward the alley.

  Raven’s stomach dropped.

  He loosed a few more shots, taking out what he could before slinging his bow across his back and scrambling toward the fire escape. He needed to warn the others.

  But as he reached the edge of the roof, he stopped dead.

  The alley was empty.

  The barricades had been abandoned. The others were gone.

  A sickening realization settled in his gut. They had left him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? This is the problem with people!” he muttered, scanning the area.

  Before he could react further, movement below drew his attention. Goblins were pouring into the alley, weapons drawn. The fire escape rattled as they began climbing, their shrill cries echoing in the tight space.

  Raven swallowed, quickly counting his remaining arrows. Not enough.

  He stepped back and drew his bow again, releasing a few quick shots, knocking goblins from the ladder. But there were too many. More and more climbed, their claws scraping against the rusted metal.

  His mind raced. He needed another way out. Then his eyes landed on the bolts securing the ladder to the roof.

  They were rusted. Damaged.

  An idea took hold.

  Dropping his bow to his side, he rushed forward, slamming his boot into the ladder’s mounting. The metal creaked but held. He kicked again. And again. The goblins were almost at the top.

  With a final, desperate strike, the bolts snapped.

  The ladder gave way.

  The goblins clinging to it screeched as they plummeted to the alley below, their bodies landing in sickening heaps. Those still on the ground scrambled to avoid the falling mass of metal and flesh.

  For a moment, relief flooded Raven.

  Then he heard it.

  The big one hadn’t climbed the ladder.

  It had jumped.

  Pulling itself over the edge of the roof it stood, towering over him, mace in hand, grinning.

  Then it charged.