"Three."
They shoved the cabinet aside. The door burst open,
An infected lunged. Taj's hammer cracked its jaw sideways. Another came, and Samir's pipe came down in a brutal arc.
Another one lunged at Reyan. He stabbed out with his knife, but his hand was shaking, the blade glancing off the creature's shoulder. It grabbed for him, fingers like claws, and Reyan saw his death in its milky eyes,
Samir's pipe came down like the hammer of God. Once. Twice. Three times. The infected collapsed
"I said don't stop!" Samir shouted.
They ran.
The hallway was hell. Flickering red lights. Bodies on the floor, some twitching, some standing. Blood on the walls, the smell of rot in their throats. They fought through it, floor by floor, until they hit the lobby.
The main doors were shattered. Dozens of infected shuffled between cars and corpses outside.
They crept toward a side exit…
A scream split the air. High-pitched. Piercing.
Every infected turned.
"RUN!"
They bolted into the daylight, feet pounding asphalt. Behind them, the horde poured out, led by the screamer.
"They're calling each other!" Taj gasped.
"Talk later, RUN NOW!" Samir yelled.
They cut through alleys, climbed fences, fought off anything that moved. Blood. Sweat. Screams.
Reyan's apartment building was three kilometres away. It might as well have been on another planet.
They fought every block. A woman in a torn sari lunged from a doorway. Taj's hammer found her temple. An old man with black veins crawling across his face grabbed Samir's arm. Samir's pipe shattered his skull. A child, no more than eight years old, eyes white and dead, came at Reyan, and he couldn't, he couldn't do it, and Samir had to pull him away as Taj finished it.
"Don't look at them," Samir said as they kept moving. "Don't think of them as people. They're not. Not anymore."
But Reyan couldn't help it. Every face was someone's father, someone's daughter, someone's friend. Every corpse was a promise broken, a family destroyed.
When they finally reached Reyan's apartment building, all three were drenched in blood and silence. Later, as they caught their breath, Reyan couldn't stop seeing that child's face. Eight years old. Same age his daughter would have been next year. Taj had done what Reyan couldn't. He should be grateful. Instead, he just felt hollow.
The building loomed before them. Reyan had lived here for five years. He knew every brick, every window, every crack in the pavement. The lobby doors hung open, glass shattered. Inside, he could see movement.
Reyan stared up at the cracked facade. "Fifth floor. Wing B."
"Then let's get your family," Samir said.
They pushed through the lobby, corpses everywhere. Familiar faces. The security guard. Mr. Kapoor from 3A. Neighbours. Friends.
Some still moved.
By the fourth floor, Reyan's arms were numb from swinging. His mind numb from killing.
Then, he saw her.