They left the underground garage in silence. Riku kept the Rezvani's lights off, guiding by moonlight and memory. The city felt hollow now—dark towers, burnt cars, wind pushing trash along the gutters. Every block looked like a place they could hide, until you looked twice and saw the broken door, the blood spray, the drag marks.
"Where are we going?" Suzune asked, eyes on the side mirror.
"Somewhere we can see trouble coming," Riku said. "Rooftops, wide lots, anywhere with one way in and an easy way out."
Ichika hugged her arms, staring out her window. "Everything looks like a trap."
"It is," he said. "That's why we keep moving."
They tried a school first. The gate was half-open, but the yard was a mess of overturned tables and tents. A relief camp had been there, then got overrun. He drove past without stopping.
Next was a mid-rise office with a recessed lobby. Good sightlines, reinforced glass. But the front doors were cracked and the elevator shaft was open, cable swaying. Someone—or something—had gone down. He kept rolling.
Miko leaned forward from the back seat. "What about the pharmacy building? It looked intact from before."
"Ground floor stores are bad," Riku said. "Too many doors. We need height or depth, not aisles."
They swung through a warehouse block. Loading docks. Shuttered bays. On paper it worked. In reality, the smell said no. Rot, oil, something sweet that meant old bodies. He didn't even slow down.
Minutes stretched. The Rezvani hummed. The girls fell quiet again, listening to the road and the engine and their own breathing. Riku mapped routes in his head: where he'd already cleared with the Ka-50, where the horde had moved, which streets funneled sound. He kept them away from long straightaways. He used alleys to break their silhouette. He watched every rooftop for movement.
They crossed a narrow bridge over a canal. Water moved like dark glass below. On the far side, the street opened into a triangle of small parks and low shops. Benches. A playground. A police box on the corner with its shutters down.
"This could work," Suzune said softly. "We could lock ourselves in one of the shops."
Riku shook his head. "Glass front. Not tonight."
"Why 'not tonight'?" Ichika asked.
"Because tonight is almost a month," Riku said, scanning the roofs again. "And that means the timers hit zero."
Miko frowned. "What timers?"
He didn't answer at first. He took the next corner slow, eyes narrowing at the building tops. His memory clicked into place. Armory: Dead Zone Protocol. The game that had become a map of their apocalypse. Common infected, heavy shamblers, spitters, he'd watched them appear in different timelines in the game world. And there was one more entry. It hatched after three to four weeks. It hunted only at night.
Night Hunters.
"New type," Riku said finally. "They only come out in the dark. They don't wander. They stalk. They hit hard."
"How hard?" Suzune asked.
"If they catch you in the open," Riku said, "you don't get back up."
Silence took the car again. Even the city seemed to listen.
They rolled past a small shrine with stone foxes staring from the gate. The kind of place that should have felt safe. It didn't. Riku's neck prickled. He checked the mirror, then the roofs again. Nothing. The feeling stayed.
Hana's voice came small from the back. "Onii-chan… is something following us?"
He didn't lie. "Maybe."
Two blocks later, the Rezvani entered a longer street lined with shuttered shops. The wind died. Trash stopped moving. The sound changed—the engine seemed louder, the tires on asphalt sharper. The world held its breath.
Then something moved on the roof to the right. Not a stumble. Not a shamble. A low, fast shape poured over the edge and vanished behind a billboard. Another shadow mirrored it across the street, the way wolves flank a road.
Riku's hands tightened on the wheel. "Eyes down," he said. "No one looks out the windows."
"What is it?" Miko whispered.
"Night hunters," he said. "Keep your heads low."
A pale shape flashed in the corner of his eye—white skin stretched too tight over muscle, long limbs, long claws, a jaw that opened too far with rows of needle teeth. Not exactly like the game's "volatiles," but close. Worse. Meaner. It moved with purpose. It moved like something that had been waiting to be born.
"Seatbelts tight," Riku said.
The first hunter landed on a bus stop shelter to their right—metal groaned under the hit—and the creature ran across the roof like a spider, matching the Rezvani's speed without effort. It didn't jump yet. It watched. It learned.
Another silhouette loped along the left rooftops, low and fast. Riku could see its shape in the moonlight when it crossed an open gap, then lost it as it slid behind the parapet. Two more shapes flickered and vanished above, further back. A pack.
"Riku…" Suzune said, barely breathing.
"Hold," he said.
The Rezvani reached the end of the long block and Riku took a hard right without signaling, letting the SUV's weight carry the turn. Tires squealed, bit, and the armored body rolled but didn't lift. He put his foot down just enough to push them into the next straightaway.
Glass shattered to their left. A hunter missed a jump and tore through a sign instead, rolled, and still hit the street sprinting. It slammed into the Rezvani's rear quarter with its shoulder. The whole SUV shuddered. Hana cried out and grabbed for Miko. The hunter fell away, then regained speed instantly, claws sparking on concrete.
"Ordinary car would flip," Riku said, mostly to keep himself steady. "Not this one."
"Can they keep up?" Ichika asked, voice tight.
"Yes," Riku said. Then, "They are."
The road opened toward a small overpass. Riku took it, thinking height might break their line, but the hunters took it too, leaping up the embankment in two, three bounds, claws raking grooves into the side. One landed on the guardrail and ran along it, body low, head tilted toward the Rezvani like a cat looking at a fish bowl.
Riku flicked the headlights on and off to break their rhythm. It didn't matter. These things didn't chase light. They chased them.
A hunter jumped from the rail, hit the roof, and the SUV bucked. The metal above their heads dented with a heavy bang. Claws screeched on the armor like nails on a chalkboard. Suzune ducked reflexively. Ichika grabbed Hana and pulled her down below window level.
Riku didn't brake. He knew braking was death. He gunned the engine instead, the V8 growling. The Rezvani leapt forward and the hunter slid off the back, skidding on its side, then popped up again without missing a beat.
"Run them," Riku said to the car, to himself, to the night.
The street dropped into a four-lane with derailed streetcars blocking two of them. He threaded into the gap, clipping mirrors off dead taxis with the armor. A hunter took the opportunity to jump from the tram roof and slam both feet into the passenger door. The door flexed but held. Suzune jolted against her belt, eyes wide.
"Door's fine," Riku said, scanning ahead. "Everyone okay?"
"We're here," Miko said, voice shaking.
"Keep breathing," Riku said. "We're moving."
Another shoulder-check from the left—boom—and the Rezvani jerked half a lane. Riku corrected. The hunters weren't trying to claw in. They were trying to flip them. If this was a compact car, it would already be on its side.
They needed space. Not alleys. Not glass. Space and hard edges he could use.
"Hold on," he said, spotting an underpass ahead with square pillars. "We're changing the game."
He floored it. The Rezvani shot forward, engine roaring now, the sound bouncing off concrete walls. The hunter on the left drew even, preparing another slam. Riku waited until the last moment, then clipped a pillar with his bumper just enough to bounce the SUV an inch toward the creature. The angle changed. The hunter's shoulder hit armor at a bad line and it spun, crashed into the pillar, tumbled, and vanished behind them.
"One down," Riku said.
"Did you kill it?" Ichika asked.
"Stunned," Riku said. "They get up fast."