But Duke knew better than to let his guard down.
The rats, though momentarily stunned by the blasts, were still surging forward.
Their screeches filled the air, a sound that grated against his nerves. Despite the carnage, their numbers weren't diminishing fast enough.
The grenades were working, but the horde was relentless, and the narrow stairwell could only contain them for so long before they'd spill over and flood toward his team.
He could feel the tension building around him. The warriors waiting for their turn to cross the bridge cast uneasy glances at him, their faces pale from fear and exhaustion.
The constant explosions echoed around them, making the situation feel even more dire.
It was only a matter of time before the loud noises attracted more unwanted attention—from either another horde of mutated rats or, worse, a nearby group of zombies.
But that was exactly what Duke was hoping for.
