The adrenaline from the raid didn't fade; it curdled.
By nightfall, the valley was a powder keg of whispered fears and frantic activity. The ease with which Claire's men had reached our gate—explosives in hand—had shattered the illusion of our invincibility. The titanium had held, but confidence had fractured.
I called a town hall meeting in the central yard. We didn't have a hall big enough for everyone, so we stood under the open sky, the Mist swirling faintly above the barrier like a bruised cloud cover. Lanterns cast long, jittering shadows against the unfinished walls of the longhouse.
I stood on a crate, looking down at the faces of the people I had sworn to protect. My mother held my father's arm, his knuckles white around his golf club. Dr. Okoye looked exhausted, her lab coat stained with soil. Liang's crew gripped hammers and pry bars like lifelines.
"We are at war," I said, letting the silence stretch after the words.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Not with the dead," I continued, my voice cutting through the damp air. "They are just a force of nature, like the rain or the wind. We are at war with the living. With a woman named Claire, who calls herself the Siphon. She leads the Citadel in the city ruins, and she has decided that what we have built here belongs to her."
"She sent a truck!" someone shouted from the back—it was Derek, the troublemaker from the early days. "They had C4! What happens when they bring a tank?"
"Then we build a bigger wall," I shot back, my voice hard. "But Claire made a mistake today. She showed us her hand. She thinks we are soft. She sees our farms and our families and she thinks prey."
I slammed my hand down onto the crate, the sound cracking like a gunshot.
"She is wrong. She sees a garden. She forgets that even roses have thorns."
I gestured to Alex, who stepped forward, unfolding a hand-drawn map of the valley approaches.
"Effective immediately, we are mobilizing," Alex said, his tactical overlay active, his eyes sharp. "No more passive patrols. We are establishing a kill zone on the southern access road. Liang, I need trenches dug behind the first treeline. Marcus, I want every vehicle we can't use stripped for parts to build caltrops and barriers."
"And if they come at night?" Dr. Okoye asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.
"Then we light them up," Ryan said from beside me. His voice was small, but steady.
I looked at my son. He was ten years old, and he was talking about killing people.
"Ryan is right," I said softly. "Lily, your barriers are our shield. Ryan, your fire is our sword. But it takes more than two people to hold a valley. Starting tonight, everyone trains. If you peel potatoes, you learn to use a knife. If you carry bricks, you learn to use a hammer. We draw a line in the sand tonight."
I looked around the circle, meeting every pair of eyes.
"If you want to leave, go now. The gate is open. But if you stay, you fight. Not for me. For the person standing next to you."
No one moved.
The line was drawn.