Asharab stared at the open gate, the wind rattling it softly like a warning he had given that responsibility to his friend. but he didn't locked it properly
And as he stepped outside, barefoot and blood-smeared, he saw it—fresh footprints in the dirt, too human to be undead.
They weren't alone anymore.
And whoever was out there… knew exactly where to find them.
The next morning arrived with a strange stillness. Asharab, his best friend, and his elder brother went to the colony gate to check what had happened. Their hearts skipped a beat when they saw the gate completely open. Panic surged through them, but miraculously, only one zombie had wandered inside. Without wasting a second, they shut the gate tightly, double-bolting it while exchanging anxious glances. The close call rattled them.
They returned home, their footsteps heavy with the weight of what could have gone wrong. Everyone sat in the common room—no jokes, no teasing, just silence thick enough to choke on. Finally, Asharab broke the tension.
"We have to find him. If we don't, he'll become a bigger problem than these zombies."
They all knew who he meant. But they were helpless. Days turned to weeks, and for a whole month, nothing significant happened. The peace was eerie, more terrifying than chaos.
Soon, their food supplies started running low. Hunger was a great motivator, and it forced action. Asharab, his elder brother, and his father geared up for a supply run. They walked straight down the road leading to the local market.
The streets were hauntingly familiar but now felt alien. Still, they managed to find an abundance of supplies. Inside several locked shelters, a few stray zombies lurked. But they were manageable. Asharab dispatched one with a kitchen knife and muttered, "Guess he didn't like the menu."
They collected everything—packaged food, bottles of water, even some toiletries. Asharab quipped, "At least now we don't have to smell like dead fish. Unless someone forgets deodorant again," giving a pointed look to his brother, who replied, "Hey, that's my signature scent!"
They continued toward the place where Asharab's katana had once fallen. But instead of finding his prized blade, they stumbled upon more dead zombies.
"That's odd," said Asharab, scanning the area. "Someone else has been cleaning up around here."
They exchanged cautious glances. They weren't alone.
They returned to the same market street, but this time, the groans of zombies grew louder. Asharab stood on the road, looking determined when a zombie began limping toward him. Both his father and brother instinctively fired at once. The zombie dropped—but the gunfire had drawn attention.
"Oops," Asharab muttered. "Might as well have sent them a dinner invitation."
They saw a massive horde approaching and ran back toward the colony gate. Halfway there, things looked grim. The horde was too close. Then, out of nowhere, a figure appeared atop the colony wall. A grenade came flying toward Asharab's father.
"That better not be a prank gift," his father said, yanking the pin and tossing it toward the horde. The explosion sent zombie limbs flying like confetti. They made it back just in time, slammed the gate shut, and heaved breaths of relief.
The mysterious figure climbed down and walked toward them—it was a girl.
"Sorry about that night," she said. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It was just once. If you don't mind, can I stay with you guys?"
Asharab's older brother grinned. "Why not? We're running a rescue home now."
Asharab chuckled. "Looks like Dad found another daughter-in-law. We're collecting them like Pokémon."
Then Asharab's eyes locked onto her backpack. His katana—his beloved blade—was strapped to it.
"Hey, can I have my katana back?"
The girl looked over her shoulder. "Oh, this? Nope. Forget it. It's mine now."
Asharab blinked. "You stole my sword and then moved in? That's gangster."
They all laughed and headed back home. As they walked in, Asharab's best friend greeted them with a smirk.
"Looks like Asharab saved another girl. Should we start a fan club now?"
Before Asharab could reply, Habiba lightly slapped his friend on the back of his head.
"No, he's not saving anyone else unless it's me again."
Asharab raised his hands in surrender. "Don't worry. This time I found myself a sister-in-law."
Dinner was full of light-hearted banter. Even Asharab's dad cracked a rare joke about zombie wedding crashers. Later, as they rested, Asharab's mother entered the room with a mischievous smile.
"So… we can get you married to Habiba if you want."
Habiba, sitting nearby, suddenly went quiet. The room grew still. Everyone turned toward her.
"What's wrong?" Asharab asked softly.
Habiba didn't respond. Instead, her eyes welled with tears. She looked away, trying to hide her emotions. Then, slowly, Asharab reached out and gently grabbed her hand.
That was all it took. Her tears spilled freely. She turned toward his mother and hugged her tightly.
"I want to marry him," she whispered through her sobs. "But… please, I have one request. Before anything, I want to find out what happened to my parents. Whether they made it… or not."
Everyone went silent, respecting the pain in her voice. Her request was heartfelt, and no one could deny its validity.
Asharab's father nodded. "Of course. We'll go. Tomorrow morning. You'll lead the way."
Asharab gently squeezed her hand. "We'll go together. And we'll bring you peace—whatever it takes."
His best friend, trying to break the tension, whispered, "Well, I was hoping for a zombie-free honeymoon story, but guess not."
Asharab smirked. "Just make sure you don't end up being the third wheel."
"Hey," his friend shot back, "I'm the stabilizer on this tricycle of love."
Laughter returned to the room, soft and healing. They knew the road ahead was still full of danger, but for now, they had each other—and that was enough.
The colony was secure. The bonds were stronger. And tomorrow, they would set out on a new mission—not just of survival, but of love, family, and closure.
As the laughter slowly faded into the warmth of night, a quiet resolve settled over them. Tomorrow wasn't just another day—it was a journey into the unknown, into Habiba's past, into whatever remained of the world outside their reclaimed walls. Asharab held her hand a little tighter, not out of romance this time, but out of silent promise.
And as the moonlight crept through the cracks in the window, casting long shadows on the floor, they all knew—this wasn't the end of their story. It was the beginning of a new chapter, one that would either reunite hearts… or break them all over again.
Hey dear readers,If you've made it this far in the journey with Asharab, Habiba, and his best friend—thank you from the bottom of my heart. This story means a lot to me, and your support makes every twist, every emotional moment, and every action-packed scene worth writing.
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— Your Author ❤️✍️