Asharab stood once more—not because his body was healed, but because his heart had found its reason to rise again. Yet, just as peace seemed within reach, a heavier shadow loomed. The world outside hadn't changed. The dead still roamed. The hunger still gnawed. And the hope they shared inside these walls… was fragile. With love confessed and loyalty deepened, Asharab now faced a crueler truth: survival demanded more than just courage. It demanded sacrifice, again. And this time, he might have to give up more than blood. He might have to let go of the very people he swore to protect.
After surviving countless dangers and carrying wounds deeper than the flesh, Asharab finally made it home—but his body collapsed under the weight of everything he'd endured. Unconscious and broken, his family and friends tended to him with quiet fear and deep love. But the real wounds weren't just physical. Habiba's rejection haunted him—her harsh words, her denial of his love, pierced through his soul more than any zombie ever could.
While he lay in bed, flashbacks of his sacrifices surged through his mind—rescuing his best friend, protecting Habiba, and standing alone against death. The room filled with silence, pain, and unspoken guilt. His best friend, angry and heartbroken, confronted Habiba, forcing her to face her mistakes.
Then, a fragile voice broke the stillness—Asharab's. He asked for Habiba, forgave her with a broken heart, and when she admitted her feelings, something in him lit up again. The moment her hand touched his, it was like life returned to his veins. Weakness faded, love won, and hope was reborn. But little did they know—the true test was yet to come.
ow was the time to reclaim what was rightfully theirs.
As the sun rose on another perilous day, Asharab set his mind on retrieving food and completely securing the colony. Determined to end the lurking threat, he devised a bold plan: he would infiltrate the guards' checkpost, seize the weapons, and eliminate every last zombie in the vicinity.
But as always, Asharab found himself cast in the role of the sacrificial lamb. Still, he embraced the mission wholeheartedly. He decided to go alone—believing that bringing anyone else would only endanger them. He cast a loving glance at his family, memorizing every face, every detail.
"My best friend is going to help me," Asharab said with a fond smile.
His best friend jumped with excitement. "What's my job?" he asked eagerly.
Asharab answered, "You'll be on the terrace, keeping watch over me."
Then, he paused. "Where is my katana?" he muttered, searching frantically for his beloved weapon. But it was nowhere to be found. Then it hit him—he had dropped it at the colony gate. There was no time to retrieve it now.
They moved out quietly. Asharab's best friend crept to the terrace and carefully closed the door behind him. But to his shock, a zombie was already there—its back turned. Quickly, he spotted a metal rod lying nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and struck the zombie. It collapsed but immediately scrambled back to its feet, head bleeding but still moving with unnatural energy.
He backed away, luring it toward the wall. At the last second, he twisted to the side, causing the zombie to crash into the wall with a sickening thud. He then struck again—this time on the head—with all his strength. The undead creature tumbled over the terrace ledge and hit the ground below with a loud crash.
Asharab, moving through the shadows of the buildings to avoid detection, froze as the corpse landed just in front of him. To his immense relief, the zombie was dead. He looked up and saw his best friend signaling an apology and urgently shouting, "Run! They're coming!"
Asharab bolted, darting between buildings with increasing speed. His friend kept eyes on him from the terrace. But in his haste, Asharab failed to notice a massive steel scrap in his path. He crashed into it hard, knocking the wind out of him.
He realized instantly—he had made a grave mistake.
Zombies, alerted by the sound, began converging on his position.
He fell—but scrambled up again. Despite knowing they were faster, he pushed forward with every ounce of strength he had.
He finally reached the guards' checkpost and slammed the door shut behind him, buying a moment's reprieve. But he knew it wouldn't last. Frantically, he scanned the area and found two automatic rifles, two pistols, and ample ammunition.
Zombies began pressing against the front window—the same window where guards once checked ID cards. Asharab loaded a rifle and a pistol. Fortunately, his father, a former army man, had taught him how to load and fire weapons.
He took aim and opened fire, eliminating zombies through the narrow window with swift precision. Once the path was partially cleared, he climbed out and began fighting his way through the horde.
Headshot after headshot—Asharab delivered fatal blows like a master marksman. But suddenly, his magazine emptied. Without a moment's hesitation, he switched to the pistol and dispatched the final few undead.
Silence fell.
The gunfire ceased. Panic surged among the family members—Habiba included.
Then came the voice of his best friend from the terrace: "You can move freely now!"
They rushed out. But suddenly, the zombie that had fallen earlier—the one presumed dead—sprang up and lunged toward Asharab's older brother.
Asharab didn't flinch. He raised his pistol and fired a perfect bullseye. The zombie crumpled.
Cheers and tears mixed as the family embraced him.
Amid the reunion, Asharab looked around at the many lifeless bodies. Recognition dawned—these were once people he knew. Tears welled in his eyes.
en his best friend spoke softly, his voice trembling.
"I want to look at my house... and my parents," he said, barely holding back his emotions.
Asharab turned to him. He understood. His friend needed closure—no matter how painful.
Their house was right next door. Asharab carried the weapons he had gathered and handed one of the pistols to his best friend.
"You will be the one to do it," Asharab said gently. "They're no longer your parents… They're zombies now. This will strengthen your spirit."
With a heavy heart, his friend opened the door.
A closed room stood ahead.
He knew what was inside. When the door swung open, two zombies—his own parents—charged toward him.
Shaking, but resolute, he pulled the trigger.
They collapsed instantly.
And then he collapsed into Asharab's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Asharab held him close, comforting him in silence.
Afterward, they turned to a more immediate task: survival. A small canteen near the colony gate still stood.
They moved like stealthy scavengers, hotwiring a car, loading it with supplies—food, snacks, and essentials. They parked it in front of their building, unloaded everything into their home's storage, and finally… ate.
For the first time in days, they tasted something more than fear.
They laughed. They cried. And most of all—they planned.
Because taking the colony was only the beginning.
But as night crept over the colony, Asharab stood by the window, eyes scanning the shadows.They had reclaimed their ground—but the real war was just beginning.Beyond the walls, something darker was moving.And it knew… they were alive.