Wrighty didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t afford to.

  The ridge shook under their feet, threatening to shatter at any moment. Just the weight of the grub was bending the world into something new. Loose stones rattled and rolled down the slope every time the creature slammed its body into the incline. The survivors stumbled and caught themselves, clinging to the jagged rock like ants on a shaking branch.

  Below them, the grub climbed. It didn’t climb like an animal. It had a strange sense to its movement that made it unnatural and more disgusting than a usual grub.

  Its pale segmented body compressed against the ridge, rings bulging outward as it forced itself higher. Trees snapped beneath it. Mud erupted behind it. The jungle looked flattened, crushed into a ruined path as the creature advanced.

  Its mouth was open again. Not wide enough to swallow the ridge whole, but wide enough to remind them what waited inside. The grinding plates spun behind its teeth like a millstone, screeching faintly even from this distance.

  That horrid stench reached them again. Wrighty gagged and forced himself to breathe through it. He sprinted along the ridge, boots slipping on wet stone. His staff tapped against rock as he ran, it was not just a walking stick but a balance, weapon, and anchor all at once. He dodged a survivor stumbling backward, then leapt over a fallen pack without slowing. His eyes flicked around the battlefield.

  Snow was at the front, bow raised, firing arrows as fast as her hands could move. Her aim was deadly, even with her hands shaking. Each arrow vanished into the creature’s maw or sank uselessly into flesh. Killing it didn’t seem to be an option for her at this point. She was just trying to keep it looking up.

  Sheath was further down the ridge, charging like a madman. His ethereal sword shimmered in his hands as he hacked at the grub’s teeth, screaming like pride alone could cut through stone. Gravel stood near the ridge edge, throwing arrows with brutal strength. Not from a bow—just launching them like spears. Each one struck the creature’s flesh with a sick thud, sinking deep. Thick black fluid oozed around the wounds.

  The grub convulsed and bellowed, its head jerking back. Wrighty’s stomach twisted. Everyone was here fighting. Everyone was risking their lives. And the boy— Wrighty’s eyes darted instinctively, like he might suddenly see him somewhere among the survivors. But he didn’t. Doc wasn’t here, he was inside the monster.

  That thought stabbed Wrighty.

  He imagined it for half a second—Doc slipping in slime, ribs broken, choking on fumes, surrounded by bones. Wrighty’s grip tightened around his staff until his knuckles went pale.

  Don’t die there.

  A scream ripped across the ridge. Wrighty’s head snapped toward it. A survivor—an older man—had charged too close to the grub’s mouth. The creature jerked upward, and the grinding plates inside surged faster.

  The man was completely frozen. His body understood what his mind couldn’t accept. Then Gravel roared.

  “BACK!”

  The man stumbled backward, scrambling. He was much too slow. The grub lunged at the defenseless geezer. Its mouth snapped forward like a trap. Wrighty’s heart slammed in his chest.

  Then— A hexagonal wall slammed into the creature’s teeth.

  Shiela’s shield. It didn’t stop the grub. But it slowed it for half a second. That half second was enough.

  The man fell backward and crawled away, sobbing. Shiela cried out, her face twisting in pain, and her shield shattered into fragments of trembling light. Blood ran down from her nose.She collapsed forward.

  Five caught her by the shoulders before she hit the rock.

  “Breathe,” Five said, voice calm.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Shiela’s eyes were wide with panic. “I—I can’t keep—”

  “Yes you can,” Five said sharply. “Not forever. Just long enough. Trust me, everything will go according to plan.”

  Wrighty noted how cold he sounded. But despite his cold voice the words rung a bell of hope.

  The grub climbed higher while the ridge trembled harder.

  The survivors were being pushed back. Spears were bent out of shape. Any sword that wasn’t the strange one Sheath had would barely even scratch the massive creature. Rocks shattered into tiny pebbles. People screamed as they stumbled and barely caught themselves from falling down the slope. Wrighty sprinted toward Snow, who was still shooting off shots with her arrow. She fired yet again. The arrow vanished into the pale mass and she cursed under her breath.

  “You okay?” Wrighty shouted.

  Snow didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”

  Wrighty snorted. “Everyone’s fine today, apparently!”

  Snow almost smiled. Then the grub surged forward again. Its mouth opened wider, grinding plates shrieking like metal tearing. Wrighty’s skin prickled.

  The air itself felt like it was vibrating. Sheath screamed and charged again, sword raised, slamming it into the creature’s teeth like a hammer. Sparks exploded on impact. The sword rang like it had struck stone, yet another poor swing. Sheath was thrown backward and slammed into the ridge, skidding across rock. His pride cracked in his eyes. He stared at the grub like it had insulted him personally. Then he stood up anyway. Because what else could he do?

  Gravel threw another arrow. It struck deep into the flesh of the giant. The grub bellowed again, head jerking. Wrighty saw the opening. Just for a moment.

  The creature had to anchor itself to climb. It had to compress. Which meant it couldn’t dodge and was vulnerable if the attack could actually injure it. Wrighty’s chest tightened. His arm burned from earlier recoil. But he didn’t care. He ran forward with reckless abandon.

  Snow shouted, “WRIGHTY WAIT—!”

  Sheath screamed, “DON’T BE AN IDIOT!”

  Wrighty didn’t stop. He was much too determined. After all, that boy did the same. He sprinted toward the grub’s face.

  The creature lunged at him—Its mouth gaping open. The grinding plates spun faster and faster.

  Wrighty jumped through the air. He planted his staff against the ridge edge and vaulted, his body lifting into the air in a clean arc. For a brief moment, he was weightless. For a brief moment, he saw the inside of the mouth. The smell hit him so hard his eyes watered.

  Then, in a swift movement, he swung his staff like a mighty warhammer.

  He brought the bo staff down with everything he had—every ounce of layered muscle, every ounce of desperation, every ounce of survival.

  The staff slammed into the grub’s upper jaw. The impact cracked like thunder. The ridge shook as the air rippled.

  A shockwave burst outward from the sheer force of the strike. The grub’s head snapped sideways violently. Its entire body jerked back. It slid down the ridge several feet, crushing stone beneath it as it recoiled.

  Survivors screamed—not in fear. In utter disbelief of his physical strength..

  “What the hell?!” someone shouted.

  Snow stared with wide eyes. Sheath’s mouth hung open. Even Gravel froze for a heartbeat. Wrighty landed hard on the ridge, knees buckling. Pain shot up his arm like lightning. His shoulder felt like hot coals. He nearly collapsed. But he forced himself upright, panting, eyes wild. “HA!” Wrighty yelled, voice cracking. “WHO’S THE PREDATOR NOW, YOU BIG UGLY—”

  The grub roared and a heavy pressure spread through the area It vibrated through the ridge, through their teeth and bones Wrighty’s grin faltered.

  “…Okay,” he muttered. “I resend my statement.”

  Then Snow screamed. Wrighty whipped around. Snow had stepped too close to the ridge edge while firing. The stone beneath her cracked. A chunk broke loose, and her foot slipped. She fell sideways. Right toward the slope and the grub.

  Snow’s eyes widened in terror. Her bow slipped from her fingers. She clawed at the rock but found nothing. Wrighty didn’t think. He sprinted and dove with everything he had, catching her by the waist and yanked her into his arm as he held his staff in his teeth. The force knocked them both backward. They hit stone hard, rolling until they stopped.When they finally stilled, Snow was in Wrighty’s arm. He held her in a one armed princess carry. Her face was inches from his.

  Her cheeks flushed a dark red. Wrighty blinked. Snow blinked back. For a second, the battlefield vanished. Then Wrighty’s eyes sharpened again. He gently set her down. Snow looked away quickly, embarrassed.

  “…Thanks,” she muttered.

  Wrighty nodded once. His focus was elsewhere at the moment. His voice came out low and strained.

  “Doc’s still in there.”

  Snow’s expression tightened instantly. Her embarrassment vanished like it had never existed. She stared toward the grub. The creature was shifting again. Its body was convulsing. Its mouth opened wider than before. And something about it felt different. Like it was preparing something. Wrighty took his staff out of his mouth and tightened his grip on it.

  The ridge shook again. And the grub began to rise.