Sweat was running down Zhenlan’s face, Lingyun looked like he was about to shake himself apart, and the fire tornado outside my broken window was doing exactly what I wanted it to do.

The only problem was... how long could these two men keep it up.

The spinning wall of flame ripped across the front lawn, dragging smoke, fire, and ash behind it as it moved through the first cluster of zombies. The bodies caught, burned, and disappeared into the wind before they could take another step toward the house.

It was beautiful in the same way a garbage fire was beautiful when it was burning someone else’s garbage.

"Hold it," I snapped when Lingyun’s hands dipped.

"I’m trying," he gritted out.

"Try harder then," I replied. I knew that it wasn’t easy. But having a power was a double edged sword. Don’t use it properly and the zombies will kill you to get it. Learn how to use it, and the amount of calories you burn could end up killing you in a week.

I would have to make sure that the guys found some of the high calorie supplies later.

Lingyun made a strangled sound that pulled me from my thoughts. I could see his face turning pale, the trembling moving from his hands to his arms to his entire body. But he didn’t let the fire drop.

Zhenlan was standing behind me, one hand braced against the wall while the wind outside kept twisting tighter and tighter. His face had gone pale, too, under the strain, but his eyes were locked on the flames like if he looked away, the whole thing would start to spin out of control.

Honestly, it probably would.

Chenghai had backed up toward the porch, breathing hard, his shirt streaked with blackened blood and dirt. He wasn’t trying to rush back into the horde anymore, which was smart of him.

Then again, he probably assumed that not even he could survive inside a fire tornado.

Yuche, on the other hand, was still standing at the window beside me, using his stupid finger gun like we were five years old and playing cops and robbers in the yard.

Click.

A zombie dropped.

Click.

Another one dropped.

Click.

I stared at his hand.

Then at his face.

Then back at his hand.

He lifted his thumb again and I finally snapped. "You don’t need a toy gun to make it work," I barked, completely unable to control my temper. "Use your brain."

Yuche froze.

Not fully, but enough that his next shot never happened. He looked at me like he wasn’t sure if I was insulting him, correcting him, or having a small breakdown from the smell of burning zombie.

"What did you say?" he growled at me. His words might have scared me if we weren’t facing down a tornado made of fire that could go out of control at any moment and a horde of zombies.

Honestly, his temper was the least of my concerns at the moment.

I pointed at the lawn, where the fire tornado was still chewing through the closest wave. "Use. Your. Brain. The finger thing is stupid," I continued, because apparently we were doing power education in the middle of my ruined living room.

For a second, he didn’t move. Then his gaze shifted.

But not to me, to the zombies.

The ones on the outer edges had managed to escape the flames all together and were already trying to figure out another way into the house.

Our back was completely exposed.

If they made it around the house, we were fucked.

Yuche sucked in a long breath and held it. I split my attention between him and Zhenlan and saw the moment it hit him

His hand lowered, his shoulders dropped, and ten zombies fell to the grass all at once.

There was no sound, no dramatic blast, and best of all, no stupid finger gun.

Just ten bodies hitting the grass with identical wounds punched cleanly through the centers of their foreheads.

I blinked before nodding my head. "Good job. But next time... think bigger."

Yuche didn’t answer me, he was still staring at the bodies like he didn’t know what had actually happened.

But I didn’t have time to babysit his emotional development.

"Lingyun, stop feeding the outside edge," I called out, hoping that Lingyun could hear me over the roaring of the wind. "You’re wasting fire where Zhenlan already has control. Push the heat inward. Make the center burn hotter."

"I don’t know what that means," Lingyun snapped.

"It means stop throwing fire like you’re angry and start cooking them properly."

Chenghai barked out a laugh from outside.

Lingyun did not appreciate my comment, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at.

The fire changed.

The tornado tightened, the loose edges pulling inward until the center glowed brighter. "Clockwise," I reminded them. "Keep it moving clockwise. If it stops in one place, you’re just making a bonfire."

Zhenlan’s jaw tightened, but the wind obeyed.

The fire tornado shifted across the grass, slow at first, then faster as the two of them found the rhythm together. It caught the next cluster and ripped through them. Arms burned away. Legs buckled. Heads cracked under the heat before dropping into the ash.

Yuche started attacking again. Not with his hand, but with his head.

Every time a zombie reached the outer edge, its head snapped back, and it dropped before it could escape the fire. One. Three. Five. Then more. The wounds were still too neat, too identical, like he had copied and pasted the same injury across every skull.

But it worked.

And that was what mattered.

Chenghai moved along the porch line, not rushing, not trying to prove anything. Whenever one staggered too close, he stepped in and ended it with one brutal strike before falling back again. He wasn’t fighting the horde anymore. He was guarding the house.

Finally. The four of them were acting like a proper team. This was how we would survive this world.

"That’s better," I called out.

"I’m so glad you approve," he shouted back.

"You should be."

Lingyun made a choking sound that might have been a laugh, which was a bad idea because his fire flickered.

"Do not laugh and collapse my tornado," I snapped.

"It’s not your tornado," he wheezed.

"It is if I’m the only one here with a working brain."