Patience, she understood, was often overated.

“It is over,” the voice continued in a tone like the cracking of parched salt plains. “We failed. They broke through. You’re the last line to stand.”

The voice broke, fell into bitter peices somewhere, a thousand miles away. Then the sour hiss of Them tunnelling through the line.

She slammed the receiver down, just in time to prevent the horde emerging here in her room.

She sat, shaken.

What the Hell could she do now?