The rest of the transformed creatures attacked together, as if some pack instinct was stronger than their own hunting instincts. Morgan used the parking meter that the construction worker had dropped.
The heavy metal gave him better leverage than the street sign. He fought with brutal efficiency, making every move count and every strike meant to disable or kill. It wasn't nice and brave, but it was just something that had to be done.
Morgan was the only one left standing in an intersection covered in blood and surrounded by bodies when the last transformed fell. His clothes were ripped and soaked with a mix of his blood and theirs.
At some point, his makeshift weapons broke, leaving his hands empty and shaking from the adrenaline crash. The civilians who had survived were starting to come out of hiding and look at him with a mix of horror and gratitude.
Someone asked, "Are you okay?" A middle-aged woman with tears streaming down her face.
Morgan wanted to laugh at the question because nothing about this was okay. What he had just done and what was still going on across the city were both very wrong.
But he just nodded and kept going toward the next group of screams. This wasn't over yet, and it wouldn't be for hours, and people were still dying.
His phone buzzed in his pants. Murphy sent a text. "Where are you? The church is safe. Come on here now!"
Morgan didn't pay attention to it and kept walking toward the noise of chaos. His body moved on its own, but his mind was busy remembering everything he had learned from this outbreak.
The changes happened faster, were more violent, and were more focused than they should have been. The Syndrome was once again going after certain places, but this time it was doing so with a level of intensity that made it seem like it was testing something or improving its method.
And the most terrifying thing was that the transformed were starting to work together, acting like a pack, which shouldn't have happened so soon in the timeline. Morgan didn't know if he could move fast enough to stay ahead of everything that was speeding up.
In the next hour, he found two more groups of transformed people. Each one was a repeat of the first, but with different variables.
Sometimes brave civilians helped him by grabbing whatever weapons they could find. There were times when he was by himself. There were always bodies left behind when he moved on, both transformed and human, because there was no way to save everyone, and trying would just mean losing more.
The screams finally stopped as the sun went down. The city fell into a tired silence that was only broken by sirens and gunfire in the distance.
Morgan sat on the curb outside a convenience store. His body was finally giving out now that the immediate crisis was over, with all of his muscles hurting.
There were cuts and bruises all over his hands. He couldn't remember whose blood it was anymore because it had dried in his hair and on his clothes.
Claire found him there, her face pale and her eyes wide with a mix of fear and relief. "Morgan!"
She dropped to her knees next to him and said, "I've been trying to call you for two hours."
"I thought you were dead."
"Oh my god..." She stopped talking when she saw him for the first time and saw the blood, the ripped clothes, and the blank look on his face. "H-How many did you kill...?"
"I had to," Morgan said, his voice rough from yelling at civilians during the fighting. "I can't let the Syndrome keep turning all the humans into monsters that could destroy the monster at any time."
Claire got what he was asking. "Forty-three confirmed changes in our area alone."
"Hundreds of people are in the news across the city, and thousands, if you count the suburbs." She swallowed hard. "Your father is on every channel calling it a miracle and saying that God is picking his faithful."
"People are already coming to the church.
"Yes, I fucking knew about it because that bastard would use this tragedy to get more people to join him."
"He would use the fear and confusion to get more people to join him. And it would work because people needed someone to tell them there was a reason for the chaos when the world stopped making sense."
Morgan continued, "We need to go," and he made himself stand up even though his body was telling him not to. "Murphy is going to use tonight to make his close friends stronger. We need to be there if we're going to fight back."
"You can hardly walk," Claire said, grabbing his arm when he started to sway. "You need to see a doctor before your injuries get worse!"
"Medical care is for people who have time to get better. Not for us." Morgan pulled away from her support and stood on his own, even though it hurt. "This was only the beginning, Claire."
"The second wave. There will be more, and each time they will be worse."
"Murphy is going to build something we can't tear down if we don't stop him now, while people are still scared and unsure."
Claire looked at his face for a long time, and Morgan could tell that she was thinking about what had happened to him since they last talked. Not the scheming strategist who got people to join by talking to them in coffee shops, but something colder.
Something that killed without thinking and kept going while it was covered in the proof. "Morgan..."
"You're not just trying to help people," she said softly. "You're trying to keep them from becoming like you."
Morgan didn't argue because she was right. Every person he hired and every mind he turned away from Murphy's influence was one less person who would have to learn the lessons he had learned. One less person who would have to do what the end of the world wanted.
"Come on," he said instead, and he started walking toward the church. "Let's go see what Murphy is planning tonight, I can already think of a lot of plans he's about to do there..."
The city was on fire behind them because of the outbreak, with emergency vehicles screaming through streets full of cars that had been left behind. And in the distance, someone was yelling, but it was hard to hear over the noise. The second wave was over, but the war was just getting started.