As soon as Malisha climbed into the bus, Raghav didn't even let her settle—he fired up the engine and slammed the accelerator like his life depended on it.
Dweep, still starstruck by how well the dogs performed, blurted,
"Why didn't you take them with you earlier, Mal?"
"Because they might scare survivors the same way they scared the zombies," Siya answered before Malisha could.
She was checking the survivors for bites, but they still looked shaken—eyes darting from Malisha to the dogs like they had no idea what kind of rescue team this was.
Aditya finally hopped in, brushing dust off himself.
"Hey. Welcome to the OG bus. You're safe now," he said with that calm, friendly voice he used only for civilians.
One of the girls—short, pale, barely holding herself together—looked straight at Malisha.
"Who… who even are you? No one comes in like that."
Her voice broke.
"And you killed Maan too…"
"I did what I had to do. I'm the captain here," Malisha replied.
"And for the rest of your questions—me? No. English."
That last line she threw casually, like she absolutely refused to explain herself further.
"Are you alright, Mal?" Siya asked, leaning closer.
"Yes. Why? Do I not look like it?" Malisha deadpanned.
"No—I mean… you're covered in blood."
Siya pointed at her uniform.
Everyone stared.
Dweep nearly fainted on the spot.
Mal finally looked down at herself.
"Oh. Well it's not mine… except this cut—thanks to our wannabe Superman," she said, nodding at the boy who'd tried stabbing her.
Then she headed toward the bathroom.
"Anyway, uniforms give me the ick."
A few minutes later she came back out—oversized shirt, cargo pants, fresh and clean, like she hadn't just slaughtered her way through three floors.
The survivors were confused beyond repair.
Once Siya finished treating them, Dweep asked the question everyone was waiting for.
"So… what happened to you all?"
His voice was low, serious, and instantly the whole bus leaned in. Even Malisha sat down with them, listening.
The boy with glasses took a shaky breath.
"We were here for an event… when everything started. Four years ago. We never left the building. We stayed quiet, used whatever resources we had. Somehow… we survived. Barely. Then he arrived."
"He was strong," the pale girl added. "Calm. Prepared. He needed people for his work, and we needed someone strong… someone who could protect us. From zombies. From humans."
"He was a bounty hunter," said the older, thinner girl. "He earned rank 88. He kept us alive. All of us. In that same building you rescued us from."
"Everything was fine," the tall boy said, voice trembling, "until he left for a meeting four or five days ago. He's gone out before… but this time—he never came back."
The shorter, muscular boy clenched his fists.
"Then two days ago… these people stormed in. Barbaric. Torn clothes. Ash and blood everywhere. They kept shouting about Queen Conquera—asking if she was with us. They wouldn't listen. They didn't want answers—just revenge. Or fear. I don't know."
"They killed half of us," the boy with glasses whispered.
"That's when we called for help. They filled the building with zombies on purpose to wipe us out. They said they had to keep searching for Queen Conquera… because they believed she killed everyone in that meeting."
His voice cracked.
"So… Rahul—rank 88, 'The Boxer'—must be dead. And I don't know who the hell this Conquera is. Why 'queen'? Why is she such a big deal? Ranks change daily. People kill each other every day. Why is she—"
"You shouldn't talk like that about Queen Conquera."
Dweep cut him off sharply, like he was reciting from a textbook he'd memorised.
"She isn't some normal rank that changes. She's top ten. Rank 2. The most feared assassin. Highest kills. Whole kingdoms run under her name—she's conquered them. All the mafias fear her. No one's ever seen her. She leaves no survivors."
The bus fell silent.
"She was nothing before," Dweep continued. "Nobody knows who she was pre-apocalypse. There was this mafia king who enslaved people, trained them, made them killers. Conquera was one of them. But she became… exceptional."
Siya shivered.
"Exceptional how?"
"She conquered entire kingdoms overnight. Genocides. She was the king's storm. For two years. Until she killed him and took his rank. People called her the 'King'—even though she was a queen. Months later, she disappeared. People assumed she died. But no one ever confirmed it."
"And now…the name's resurfacing?" Siya whispered.
"That's terrifying."
Mal smirked.
"Wow, Dweep. You actually do your homework, huh? Good to know."
Aditya shot her a 'Mal, shut up' look instantly.
The boy with glasses adjusted his frame, studying Malisha with a seriousness that didn't match his age.
"So… what's your rank, girl? Mal, right? Your fighting style—" he paused, voice lowering, "—it looks like top-100 material."
All eyes shifted to where Malisha sat in the corner, casually leaning back like she had been waiting for this moment.
She smiled—her signature smile.
"Oh, the OGs don't have ranks. We're not ki—" she coughed lightly, recovering, "sorry. We're not killers. We save people. We don't need ranks, and neither do I."
She said it like a bored teenager explaining homework.
The survivors stared at her as if they had been expecting a completely different answer.
Malisha clapped lightly. "Anyway, I think you all should tell me your names—procedure purpose and conversation purpose."
The tall guy who had earlier tried to stab Malisha spoke first.
"I'm Saurabh."
"I'm Ishitha," said the pale-skinned young girl.
"Reha," added the thin older woman.
"Ram," said the boy with glasses.
"I go by Ishan," said the last boy.
Dweep, ever the efficient helper, scribbled everything down as fast as they spoke.
"Nice to meet you all," Aditya jumped in, trying to divert their attention from Malisha, though he was clearly fascinated too. "Don't worry, scavengers won't bother you again. And as for Queen Conquera—she's not real. And… I'm sorry about your leader and your friends."
"Likewise," Malisha added quickly, almost like she had forgotten.
---
The Paperwork Moment
While taking down survivor details, Dweep looked up.
"I presume none of you are ranked, right? But… are any of you slaves or warrantied?"
"We're not slaves," Ishan said immediately. "We worked with Rahul—'the Boxer'—but we never signed official slavery documents. We just… helped each other. More like friends."
"And what is 'warrantied', exactly?" he asked.
"My bad," Dweep said. "I should explain. When someone in the ranks places a warranty on you, it means your life has value. If someone kills you, the killer gets money on their head—either as a bounty or assassination reward. Depends."
Ishitha winced. "Rahul wouldn't spend money on us like that. He was… not generous."
Ram pushed up his glasses. "I've heard about this warranty thing. Lower ranks—till 80—can warranty one or two people. Mid-ranks can warranty small groups. And the top twenty can warranty organisations or big groups. Above that—top ten—they can warranty kingdoms. Maybe the whole territory."
He paused.
"And rumor says the OG organization is also warrantied under someone in the top ten… no?"
The entire bus fell silent.
Raghav muttered while driving, "Oh god, not this nonsense again…"
Dweep froze, completely unsure how to answer.
Malisha broke the tension. "We're not warrantied by anyone. We're just a good connecting link in this world, so people say… absurd things."
"I hear this on every mission," Aditya sighed. "It's noise at this point."
Siya approached with the first-aid kit.
"Show me the cut."
"It's shallow," Malisha said, smiling. "It'll heal. Don't bother."
Siya raised an eyebrow. "Do I really need to explain the number of bacteria and viruses around us? Don't be silly, girl."
Malisha obeyed immediately—mostly because Siya had that teacher voice.
Aditya took the opportunity.
"Finally, she looks her age. Miss Siya, do this more often. She's a brat."
Siya stiffened, remembering how strict she just sounded.
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just… worried. You walked in there alone. You're lucky to come out with only this cut. Almost impossible. I just want to help you, ma'am."
Malisha lifted her gaze.
"I'm not lucky, Siya. I'm skilled. And don't call me ma'am—I told you before. It's Mal for you. For all of you."
Then she smirked.
"But not 'girl', okay? I am your captain. At least pretend to respect me in front of guests, teacher."
Siya gave an awkward smile.
---
Red Zone Departure
Malisha left and dropped into the seat beside Raghav.
"It's getting dark. How much red zone is left?"
"I took a different route. Thought it was shorter… maybe not." He kept his eyes on the road. "But at least we'll avoid those scavengers. Survivors are still in shock. And you did ask me to avoid them."
"Good." Mal nodded. "Didn't think you'd find a new route this fast. Guess you really are a seasoned driver, sir."
Raghav snorted.
"So," Mal continued, "when will we be out of the red zone? Anytime soon?"
"Thirty to forty-five minutes. Then we hit the orange zone."
"Hm." She watched the sky darken. "Pull over once we cross. Don't drive in the dark. And you need rest. I'll walk my dogs."
Raghav nodded, steady on the wheel.
The bus moved forward, deeper into dying light, the survivors silent—
and the myth of Queen Conquera hanging like a ghost between them.
The bus finally lurched to a halt.
Raghav leaned back and told the captain quietly, "We're out of the Red Zone now."
Before anyone could process that, Reha shot up, panicked.
"Why did we stop? Is something broken? Did someone ask you to— oh no, are you going to kill us now?"
Aditya sighed. "Whoa, relax. I'll go check it with Mal."
Malisha pressed her fingers to her forehead, already exhausted by the chaos, and stepped out of the driver's cabin. She walked straight to the dogs' compartment, unlocking it with practiced ease.
"We stopped because it's dark," she explained, tone flat. "It's dangerous to move further at night, even outside the Red Zone. And my dogs need their walk."
As soon as she opened the door, the dogs bounded out into the night. Malisha grabbed her gun before stepping out.
"No one comes out of the bus," she instructed sharply. "Not even the roof. It's worse in the dark, even here. Dweep, lock the gate and windows. Turn the soundproofing on—the zombies' noise carries clearer at night when the engine's off. And don't open anything until I ring the bell. Understood?"
Dweep shut the door immediately.
---
Outside, the night swallowed everything. The road was silent, the sky moonless, tall trees massed on one side like dark walls. Malisha walked farther down the roadside while her dogs sniffed, trotted, and explored, their shapes gliding in and out of shadows. She was already a good distance from the bus.
She patted the black German Shepherd's head.
"Kuro… you know what I heard today? Two completely opposite words in one sentence."
The dog tilted his head.
"'Queen Conquera' and 'survivor.' I mean… how stupid can people be?"
A bullet sliced through the air. Malisha shifted lightly to the side, avoiding it.
"Rude," she said, amused. "And very weak. Though impressive—you're smarter than your male leader was."
Her dogs growled behind her as a woman stepped from the roadside bushes, gun trembling in her hand.
"You… what did you do?" the scavenger leader spat. "I knew something was wrong the moment you offered us supplies. The food—it was toxic, wasn't it, dog girl?"
"You're late," Malisha replied cheerfully. "I've been out here walking my dogs for five minutes. I saw you when I stepped out of the bus during the rescue. Thought you ran away scared. Or died." She smiled. "But no… here you are."
"You thought I'd let everyone eat it without checking?" the scavenger woman snarled. "You thought leaving was some smart trick?"
"Oh no, I thought it was a stupid strategy," Malisha laughed softly. "You just turned out to be stupider. I almost didn't believe it worked."
The scavenger leader grinned spitefully. "You think this is funny? Do you even know who I am?"
"Oh yes," Malisha said, irritated. "Spare me the introduction. I remember."
"Good. Then you know who's about to kill you." The woman raised her gun. Behind Malisha, the dogs sat, growling, waiting for her command.
But before she could fire, a distant explosion shook the ground. Flames lit up the treeline.
The scavenger camp.
Malisha smirked. "Ah. Looks like you made it out just in time."
The scavenger stared, horrified. "No… no one knows the location. No one. I made sure. And this level of destruction—five hundred… six hundred of my strongest—" Her voice cracked. Then her expression hardened, eyes sharp and murderous.
"You told her. You told Conquera our location. Only she would kill so many this fast. How did you contact her?"
"Me?" Malisha raised a brow. "Ma'am, you've been following me all day. I didn't contact anyone. Cut my satellite radio too—less noise, fewer casualties." Her voice cooled. "Maybe you did."
"I—I didn't tell anyone… except you," the scavenger choked out.
"Exactly." Malisha's smile turned cold, almost playful. "You finally reached the point."
The leader trembled, stepping back, eyes glued to Malisha.
"You checked the food," Malisha continued, closing the distance one slow step at a time. "What did you do? Leave the supplies somewhere? Dump them? And tell me honestly… did you open the med kits? I'm guessing no."
The scavenger froze as realization dawned.
"So… so you are her. You're Queen Conquera," she whispered.
"How sad you figured it out now." Malisha's voice was soft and merciless. "If you'd realized sooner, maybe you could've saved them. Maybe if you weren't so reckless, so egoistic, chasing me instead of staying with your people."
Mal's eyes went cold.
"I came here for a rescue mission. Nothing more. But you interrupted me. That lone survivor? I already collected the assassination amount on him. He had to die. And worst of all…" Her smile widened, predatory. "He saw my face. Just like you do now."
"You can't," the scavenger stammered. "I'm rank 150. I'm warranted. If you kill me, a bounty of five thousand coincies—"
"150?" Malisha snorted. "Don't joke. Your bounty can't be more than a thousand. No one spends five thousand on you."
She stepped into the moonlight, expression turning completely dead.
"And don't worry about my bounties. Ten million on my head. One hundred billion on my assassination." Her eyes were empty, inhuman. "A thousand more won't hurt."
The scavenger's voice broke. "What kind of monster are you…?"
"You liked my dogs," Malisha said softly. "But you haven't seen them work."
She looked into the woman's eyes.
"Go on, boys. Now."
The leader barely raised her gun. The black German Shepherd locked onto her throat; the Saint Bernard slammed her to the ground. A scream tore out—then another.
Malisha didn't turn.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't look back.
She walked forward casually, hands slipping into her pockets. Her expression softened as her dogs rejoined her. She started humming a quiet tune.
She patted the Saint Bernard. "Rambo, good job today."
Then the brown shepherd. "You too, Chase. All of you—very, very good boys."
Reaching the bus door, she calmly reached up…
and rang the bell.