Shihab moved cautiously in the hospital's corridor, his weapon raised, as the team advanced through the wreckage. Beside him, Karam and Basil cleared the path, their weapons trained on every open doorway. Karima and Asma followed closely, medical kits strapped to their backs, while Waseem and Jalal took the rear, their eyes sharp for any movement.
A faint whimper echoed from behind a collapsed shelf. Jalal's breath hitched.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered urgently.
The team froze. The sound came again, it was a weak, muffled cry.
"There!" Asma pointed to a blocked door.
Without hesitation, Shihab and Karam shoved the debris aside, revealing a small storage room. Inside, a woman huddled in the corner, clutching a trembling child to her chest.
"Noor!" Jalal rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside his sister.
"J-Jalal?" Noor's tear-streaked face lifted in disbelief. "You're alive!"
"Of course I am," Jalal choked out, pulling her into a tight embrace. The little boy in her arms whimpered, his feverish skin burning to the touch.
"We couldn't leave," Noor sobbed. "He was sick when the outbreak started… then the hospital was overrun. We've been hiding here for days."
Karima knelt beside them, checking the boy's pulse. "He's weak, but he'll make it. We need to get them out now."
Shihab nodded. "Basil, Waseem, cover our exit. We move fast."
The team moved as one, shielding Noor and the child as they fought their way back through the zombie-infested halls. Every corner was a threat, but they moved with precision, their teamwork flawless.
By the time they burst through the hospital doors into the fading daylight, Shihab's system buzzed with notifications.
"Tasks completed," he muttered under his breath. Then, his eyes widened as he saw the family statue updated.
Karam glanced at him. "What is it?"
Shihab's fingers trembled as he read the details. His home was burned to the ground by his brother's enemies. But his family… the system showed him footage of when they escaped safely. They were alive, they took shelter in the neighbor's house before fleeing to an island when the zombies rose.
A weight he hadn't realized he was carrying lifted from his chest.
"They're safe," he breathed.
Asma placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's good news, isn't it?"
Shihab exhaled slowly, then looked at his team, Jalal holding his sister and her baby close, Karam reloading his weapon, the others standing ready despite the horrors around them.
"Yeah," he said, determination hardening his voice. "But there are still people here who aren't. So we must keep fighting."
Karam smirked, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Then let's get to work."
As the group moved out, Shihab cast one last glance at the crumbling city. His family was safe. Now, it was his turn to protect those who remained.
Together, they would stand against the zombies.
The glow of Karima's laptop screen illuminated her tired face as she scrolled through the endless flood of social media posts, missing persons, desperate pleas for help, and grim updates from the city's crumbling emergency services. The two little girls, Aisha and Rima slept curled up beside her on the makeshift bed, their small hands clutching the edges of a shared blanket.
"Anything?" Asma whispered, stepping into the room with a steaming cup of tea.
Karima rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Maybe. I think I found something."
She turned the screen toward Asma. A grainy photo of a couple, their faces bruised and exhausted, being loaded into an ambulance. The timestamp was from the first night of the outbreak.
"That's them," Karima said quietly. "Their parents."
Asma's grip tightened around the cup. "Are they...?"
Karima scrolled further, her stomach knotting as she reached a hospital worker's post.
"Two unidentified adults brought in unconscious. No IDs, no one claimed them. Then they turned. Security had to put them down. If anyone knows who they were, contact this number."
The post ended abruptly.
Karima exhaled sharply, her fingers hovering over the keyboard before finally closing the laptop.
"They're gone," she said softly.
Asma sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "we have no evidence that those are their parents. What do we do now?"
Karima looked down at the sleeping girls, Rima tiny fingers twitching in her sleep, Aisha's quiet breaths. They had clung to her since the team recruited Shihab.
"We take care of them," Karima said firmly. "At least until we find Their family... if there's any left."
Asma nodded. "They trust you. Especially after you calmed Rima down during that last attack."
Karima smiled faintly, remembering how the younger girl had buried her face in her shoulder, shaking as gunfire echoed outside.
"They're just kids," she murmured. "They shouldn't have to face this alone."
A rustling came from the bed as Rima stirred, her big brown eyes blinking open.
"Karima...?" she mumbled, rubbing her face. "Is Mama coming soon?"
Karima's chest tightened. She reached over, gently smoothing the girl's tangled hair.
"Not yet, habibti," she said softly. "But I'm here, okay? You and Aisha are safe with me."
Rima studied her for a moment before nodding sleepily and curling back into her sister.
Asma gave Karima's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You're doing the right thing."
Karima took a slow breath, watching the rise and fall of the girls' breaths. The world outside was merciless, but in this small, fragile moment, she could at least shield them from the storm.
"We'll protect them," she said. "No matter what."
And for the first time in days, she felt a flicker of purpose stronger than fear.
__
Karam leaned over a map of the city spread across the table, marked with red X's where hordes had been spotted. Jalal paced nearby, his rifle slung over his shoulder, while Shihab sat with his arms crossed, deep in thought.
"We cleared out three blocks yesterday," Karam muttered, rubbing his temples. "But today, they're just as packed as before. It's like we're not making a dent."
Jalal stopped pacing and slammed his palm on the table. "Because we're not. For every zombie we put down, two more take its place, thanks to idiots who think they can still live like nothing's changed."
Shihab looked up. "What do you mean?"
"You've seen it," Jalal snapped. "People sneaking out past curfew for supplies and getting jumped. Families hiding their bitten loved ones, hoping they'll 'get better.' Then boom, another outbreak inside our damn safe zones."
Karam exhaled sharply. "He's right. We can't just keep clearing streets if people keep feeding the horde."
Shihab leaned forward, his voice low but firm. "Then we don't just kill zombies. We regain control. People are scared, and fear makes them stupid. They need to know someone's in charge that there's a plan."
Jalal scoffed. "And how do we do that? Post flyers?"
"No," Shihab said, standing. "We show them. Secure a zone, hold it, and make it safe. No more hiding bites. No more reckless runs. We enforce rules for their own survival."
Karam crossed his arms. "That's gonna make us look like dictators."
"Better than being corpses," Shihab countered. "If we don't restore order, the zombies will. And they don't negotiate."
Silence fell. Outside, a distant scream echoed, then cut off abruptly.
Finally, Jalal grunted. "Fine. But if we're doing this, we do it hard and fast. No half-measures."
Karam nodded. "Then we start tomorrow. First, we take back the police station it's fortified, and people will recognize the symbol. If they see the law returning, they might actually listen."
Shihab allowed himself a grim smile. "Then it's settled. We stop surviving. We start fighting back."
The three
exchanged determined glances. The war wasn't just against the dead anymore , it was against chaos itself. And they were done losing.