2025-07-08 22:15:25Aisha handed Shihab a half-eaten chocolate bar her last one with a stubborn frown when he tried to refuse.
"You need energy more than we do," she said, pressing it into his calloused hands. "You’re the one searching all day." Rima nodded, curled up against his side like a kitten. "And you’ll find them. You’re strong. Strong people don’t need to steal." Shihab’s throat tightened. He unwrapped the bar slowly, the chocolate smudged on the foil. "I hope you’re right," he murmured. "You know we are," Aisha declared, kicking a pebble across the floor. "Right, Rima?" "Right!" The little girl grinned, her missing front tooth making the word whistle. For the first time in days, Shihab laughed. The sound felt foreign in his chest. Three days later, the city’s ruins smelled of wet ash and rust. Shihab found an abandoned office building, the windows were broken and half of the building was destroyed. He went inside out of curiosity. He walked around and carefully searched for any sign of life, then he heard a voice. "Shihab? Is that you?" He spun, weapon raised, only to freeze. A lanky figure with a familiar big head stepped into the light, his younger brother Ayham’s best friend since middle school. The guy’s leather jacket was streaked with blood, but not his own. "Tariq?" Shihab lowered the gun, heart hammering. "You scared me." Tariq’s face twisted. He glanced over his shoulder before dragging Shihab behind an unstable wall. "Sorry, But I've got to tell you something important… your brother, he disappeared the night the zombies showed up. Later I found out he joined Qasim’s crew." The name hit like a slap. Qasim is the leader of the Black Vipers, a gang that ran arms deals before the apocalypse made business booming. Shihab grabbed Tariq’s collar. "Why?" "I don't know. Your mom…" Tariq swallowed. "She begged him to stay. But Qasim offered him protection, guns, and said he’d pay him well. I Don't know how Ayham got caught up in their business, I told him not to do it but he didn't listen." A gunshot echoed in the distance, cutting him off. "Look, he changed his number after. No one’s heard from him since the Vipers’ hideout got overrun last week." Overrun. The word buzzed in Shihab’s skull. He released Tariq, hands shaking. "Where?" "Old textile factory by the river, but" Tariq flinched as another shot rang out. "It’s crawling with zombies now. And if your brother is alive…" He didn’t finish. They both knew what Qasim demanded in exchange for his protection. Shihab stared at the broken glass under his boots. Zombies, apocalypse and now gangs. His mother and younger brothers were missing, his brother was caught up in gang war. Things just couldn't get worse for his family. Tariq pressed a crumpled photo into his hand, Ayham at a rooftop party, grinning, Qasim’s arm around his shoulders like a vice. "If you find him… tell him I’m sorry." Then he vanished into the rubble. Shihab pocketed the photo. Somewhere, his family waited for him, and he swore he would find them. "Strong people don’t need to steal." Aisha's words echoed in his mind. strength, he realized, came in forms he hadn’t yet dared to wield. The blue light of the system flickered to life before Shihab's eyes as he crouched in the ruins. Dust particles floated through the air, catching the eerie glow as words materialized: [NEW TASK OFFERED Objective: Survive 72 hours in current zone. Reward: Verified location of your family. Failure penalty: Location data will be permanently erased.] Shihab's breath caught in his throat. His fingers trembled as they hovered over the virtual accept button. Three days. In this hellscape. Bur on the other hand he doesn't have to steal. No betraying his morals. Just pure, brutal survival. He swallowed hard, tasting blood from his split lip. Somewhere outside, a chorus of guttural moans signaled another roaming pack of infected. With a deep breath, he pressed ACCEPT. The system pulsed once, then displayed a new message: "COUNTDOWN INITIATED: 71:59:59 Recommended survival strategy: Move northeast to high-ground positions." As the numbers began ticking down in the corner of his vision, Shihab tightened the straps on his backpack. The weight of his rifle suddenly felt heavier. Somewhere out there, his family was waiting. And now he had a deadline.
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Chapter 54 The Balm To Their Hearts
The first light of dawn was just beginning to paint the hideout’s walls in shades of grey and gold when Shihab’s phone chimed with a soft, distinct tone he had been waiting weeks to hear.It wasn't the crackle of the radio, but the sound of a social media notification. His heart leaped into his throat. Weeks ago, in a moment of desperate hope, he had sent a message into the digital void to his mother’s account: Mom. We are alive. We are in the city. Are you and the others safe?He had checked every single day. Every day, the message remained unread. Until now.With trembling fingers, he unlocked the screen. There it was. A single line from his mother, Umm Shihab.'My son. My brave boys. We are safe. On Al Noor Island. Your father is with me. The internet is finally stable. Please, answer me.'Tears instantly blurred his vision. He didn’t type a response. His thumb, shaking uncontrollably, hovered over the voice call button. He pressed it, his breath held tight in his chest.The line r
Chapter 53 A Warm Day
The morning sun was warm on Ayham’s face, unlike the cool, damp earth beneath his feet. For the first time in weeks, the air he breathed didn’t smell of dust, or fear. It smelled of turned soil and the hopeful scent of green things pushing their way toward the light. He stood at the edge of the newly tilled field, a place they now called "Fadil's Folly" with a tone of deep affection. Riham held his left hand, Omar his right, their small grips tight and trusting."They need this," Ayham had insisted to Shihab that morning. "They need to feel the sun, not just see it through a window. They need to run."Shihab, seeing the desperate hope in his brother's eyes, had agreed immediately. He had organized a heavy guard detail, positioning Peace Seekers with rifles at a discreet perimeter around the field. But within that secure bubble, a different kind of day was unfolding.Mr. Fadil, his hands caked in rich soil, looked up from his seedlings and smiled, his weathered face crinkling. "Ah! My
Chapter 52 New Purpose
The days at the hideout began to blend into a gentle, if fragile, rhythm. The frantic energy of survival was slowly being replaced by the quieter, more deliberate work of healing. Ayham’s body was mending, the vivid bruises fading to a sickly yellow, the sharp pain in his ribs subsiding into a persistent ache. But the deeper wounds, the ones carved by fear and helplessness, were slower to close.He had become the center of a small, quiet universe inhabited by Riham and Omar. They were his shadows, their small hands perpetually finding his, their eyes following him wherever he moved. If he shifted in his sleep, one of them would stir. If he stood to get water, two small figures would silently appear at his side.One afternoon, he was sitting on a threadbare rug in a patch of sunlight, slowly trying to restore mobility to his stiff fingers. Riham and Omar watched him with solemn intensity."Does it hurt?" Riham asked, her voice barely a whisper."Not so much anymore," Ayham said, offeri
Chapter 51 A Chance To Breath
The first thing Ayham became aware of was a dull, throbbing ache that seemed to radiate from every part of his body. The second was a small, warm weight pressed against his side. He forced his good eye open, the effort Herculean. The world was a blur of soft, diffused light. As his vision cleared, he saw a head of dark and messy hair tucked under his chin. Riham was curled against him, fast asleep. On the other side, Omar was slumped in a chair pulled up close to the bed, his head was resting on the mattress near Ayham's hand.A wave of profound, disorienting relief washed over him. They were safe, and he was out.He tried to move his hand to touch Omar's hair, but a sharp, stabbing pain in his ribs stole his breath. The gasp he let out was raspy and weak.Instantly, a figure stirred in a chair in the corner of the room. Shihab was there, his head snapping up. He looked… drained. There were deep, bruised-looking circles under his eyes, and his face was gaunt with a fatigue that seem
Chapter 50 Dreamless Night
The battered jeep screeched to a halt inside the Peace Seekers' compound, its arrival met not with cheers, but with a surge of frantic activity. The triumphant return was a somber, medical emergency. Shihab practically fell out of the driver's side, his own body trembling with a delayed shock."He's in here! Karam's hurt too!" he yelled, his voice raw, as he wrenched open the back door.The sight of Ayham, unconscious, bruised, and caked in dried blood, sent a wave of gasps through those gathered. Hands reached in, carefully extracting him onto a waiting stretcher. He was frighteningly light, his body limp. Karam staggered out under his own power, but his face was a mask of pain. He clutched at his left shoulder, where a dark, ominous stain was rapidly spreading across the bandages, the old gunshot wound torn open during his brutal fight with the guard."Get them to the hospital. Now!" someone shouted.The journey to the fortified hospital was a blur of speed and silence. Shihab sat i
Chapter 49 Out Of The Fire
The air in the Peace Seekers’ hideout was electric, Shihab stood before the map, his finger planted firmly on the auto garage on Commercial Street. The red dot in his mind was a beacon, a constant, pulsing reminder that his brother was within reach.“We will go tonight,” Shihab had said, his voice leaving no room for debate. “No more waiting.”The plan was simple, brutal, and relied on perfect timing. “Jawad, you’re our rock,” Shihab had directed. “You must find a perch opposite the main entrance. When I give the signal, you open fire. Not to kill everyone, but to make a hell of a noise. Draw every one of Qasim’s men to the front.”Jawad had simply nodded, already mentally calibrating the scope on his M4.“Jalal, you’re with him,” Shihab continued. “You'll provide close support, watch his back, and make sure no one flanks his position.”Jalal, his face still pale but his eyes sharp, had affirmed with a grim, “Understood.”“Karam, you’re with me,” Shihab said, turning to his friend, wh
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