Chapter 4: Fear Breeds Monsters

Part 1: A Group Divided

The Alam family stood in the center of the carnage, blood dripping from their clothes and pooling at their feet. Every breath was a struggle, rasping through dry throats and tight chests. The house—meant to be their refuge—was in ruins. Broken furniture, shattered windows, and heaps of mangled corpses painted a picture of grim survival.

Sajid leaned on his cricket bat, the blood-streaked wood creaking under his grip. "Everyone—check for injuries. Fast. If you're bitten, you tell us now."

"No bites here," Shawaiz said breathlessly, stepping back from the barricade and leaning against the wall. His face was pale, but his hands were steady on his weapon.

Zaid raised his hammer. "Same here." He glanced at Shamir, who was wiping blood off his pole onto the leg of a torn couch. "Shamir?"

"Clean as a whistle," Shamir replied, though his grin lacked its usual confidence. "But if anyone's looking to donate a new pair of pants, I wouldn't say no."

Moiz barked a laugh, despite himself, though the tension in his shoulders remained. "You've got bigger problems than your fashion choices, genius."

"Let's focus," Muhammad interrupted, his voice cold and sharp. He stood by the shattered window, scanning the street outside for any sign of movement. "That wasn't all of them. More could come."

At the back of the room, the aunties worked to soothe the younger children. Subhana held Mehmood close, her hands trembling as she wiped the blood smearing his cheek. "You're safe now, beta. It's over."

"It doesn't feel over," Mehmood mumbled, his small hands clutching the front of her shirt.

Naseem sat beside Aysha, who cradled Mohid in her lap. "You did well," Naseem said softly, stroking Aysha's hair. "You were brave."

Aysha stared at her hands—shaking and slick with blood. "I don't feel brave."

"You don't have to," Naseem replied. "Bravery isn't about what you feel. It's about what you do."

On the other side of the room, Majid inspected the door that had almost given out during the fight. Shazia joined him, her hands still gripping the splintered leg of a chair she had wielded like a weapon.

"This place is done," Shazia muttered, kicking at the rotted wood of the doorframe. "We barely made it through one attack. We're not staying here another night."

"Agreed," Majid replied. He glanced over his shoulder toward Sajid. "So what's the next move?"

"We head for the Bedian compound," Sajid said firmly, not waiting for discussion. "This place isn't defensible, and we're wasting time arguing."

"That's assuming we can reach it," Khalid countered, standing from the sofa where he'd been catching his breath. "Do you even know how far it is? How many streets we'll have to cross with those things everywhere?"

"I'll worry about the streets," Sajid snapped. "We're not staying here to wait for them to finish us off."

"You're too reckless!" Subhana said, her voice rising. "The children can't handle another sprint like that. They need rest—"

"There's no rest anymore," Muhammad interrupted, his glare like fire as he turned back to the group. "Stop wasting time pretending there's safety anywhere. We're never safe. We move now, or we die later."

"And what happens when more of them swarm us outside?" Shazia demanded, crossing her arms. "If we had trouble holding this house together, what makes you think we'll survive another escape?"

"Stop shouting!" Aysha snapped suddenly, her voice shaking as she rose from the corner. All eyes turned to her as she pointed at the group. "You're scaring the kids, and you're not helping. We all want the same thing—so figure it out without yelling at each other!"

The room fell into a heavy silence. For a moment, even Sajid seemed at a loss for words.

"She's right," Majid said finally, his voice calm but firm. "We can't afford to break apart. This isn't a democracy. Sajid, you're leading this. Tell us what you need, and we'll follow."

Sajid glanced at the group, his expression softening. "We leave in an hour," he said. "Get what you can from the house—water, tools, anything useful. Rest if you need it. Then we go."

Part 2: Broken Families

In small groups, the family scattered throughout the ruined house to prepare. Every corner told the same story of survival—a fight they couldn't keep winning forever.

Subhana knelt beside Maryam, checking the younger children for scrapes and bruises. "They shouldn't have to see this," Subhana murmured, her eyes filled with sorrow.

"They don't have a choice," Maryam replied quietly, brushing Mohid's hair from his face as he leaned against her side. "None of us do."

"You're strong for them," Subhana said, placing a hand on Maryam's shoulder. "We all are. But I don't know how long we can keep this up."

"Then we don't think about it," Maryam said firmly. "One step at a time. One breath at a time."

Nearby, Aysha wiped her hands clean with a torn curtain. She glanced at Naseem, who was rummaging through a cabinet for supplies. "Do you think we'll even reach the compound?" Aysha asked softly.

Naseem paused, then turned to Aysha. Her face was calm but determined. "I don't think about what might happen, beta. I focus on what needs to happen."

"And that's supposed to make it easier?"

"No," Naseem replied, smiling faintly. "But it makes it possible."

Across the room, Zaid and Shamir loaded their weapons. "Don't get yourself killed out there," Zaid muttered to his younger brother, passing him a roll of duct tape for his splintered pole.

"Didn't plan to," Shamir replied with a smirk. "But you know me—I'll still make it look cool."

The hour passed quickly. By the time they regrouped, the Alams were packed and ready to leave. They moved in formation once again, huddled close as they approached the shattered front door.

"Everyone stay close," Sajid ordered. His grip on his bat was firm, though his gaze lingered on his family for a brief moment longer. "This doesn't end until we're safe. Let's go."

With that, they stepped into the unknown once more, fear trailing behind them like a shadow.

Part 3: Violence on the Streets

The Alams moved as one, their steps measured and quiet as they left the ruined house. The streets outside stretched before them, a jagged expanse of shattered glass, overturned cars, and shadows that writhed with distant movement. The early evening light cast an eerie glow, painting the bloody world in crimson hues.

Sajid led the group, his bloodied cricket bat resting on his shoulder. Khalid and Majid flanked him, both men tense and scanning their surroundings with weapons ready. The cousins spread out just behind them, forming a perimeter that kept the younger children and women in the center.

"Stay sharp," Sajid said softly, glancing over his shoulder at the group. "If you see something, call it out. Don't engage unless you have to."

"I'll keep them safe," Muhammad replied from the back, his knife in hand. His eyes swept the area, locking on every shadow.

Nearby, Shawaiz nudged Shamir and muttered, "Bet you five rupees they start an argument before we even hit the main road."

Shamir stifled a grin. "If Majid chacha gets involved, double it."

"Focus," Zaid hissed, though his smirk betrayed that he, too, found brief levity in their banter.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, cluttered with the remnants of a city in chaos. Broken bicycles lay in gutters, abandoned stalls leaned precariously to one side, and the smell of rot hung in the air like a heavy fog.

Subhana, walking near the children, held Mehmood's hand tightly. "Stay close to me," she murmured. Her gaze flickered from the ruins to her son's pale face.

"I am, Ammi," Mehmood replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Maryam, how are Mohid and Afeef doing?" Subhana asked, not taking her eyes off the street.

"They're holding up," Maryam replied from the opposite side, her tone steady despite her trembling hands. Mohid clung to her arm, his small legs stumbling slightly as they stepped over debris. "Right, beta?"

Mohid nodded weakly, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into her side.

"They're alright," Aysha interjected, holding Mohid's other hand while watching over Afeef. Her expression was tight, but she projected calm for the boys' sake. "We'll get through this. Won't we, Afeef?"

Afeef hesitated, then nodded with a faint "Yes, baji."

The group made steady progress, but every step felt heavier than the last. Around them, distant moans and guttural growls reverberated through the streets, growing louder as they neared the main market.

Sajid raised a hand, signaling for the group to stop. He knelt by a fallen lamppost, gazing ahead with narrowed eyes. "Majid, Khalid," he called softly. "What do you think?"

Majid crouched beside him, his gaze following the same line. "The market's blocked," he muttered, pointing to a row of overturned rickshaws and shattered stalls. "The street's barely passable, and look." He gestured to a group of infected shuffling in the shadows beyond the wreckage.

"Too exposed," Khalid said grimly, hefting his wrench. "If we head straight, we're dead. They'll be on us in seconds."

"Side alleys?" Majid asked.

Sajid shook his head. "More infected could be hiding there." He scanned the scene again, then turned back to Muhammad. "What's the back look like?"

Muhammad frowned as he surveyed the rear. "Clear so far, but if they spot us..."

"They won't," Sajid said. "We move fast. Stick to the stalls and use the cars for cover."

The group moved cautiously toward the market, each footstep deliberate and soundless. Shamir, Zaid, and Moiz stayed on the perimeter, their eyes darting to every alley and darkened corner.

"This feels wrong," Zaid muttered, his voice barely audible.

"It's supposed to," Moiz replied quietly. "Stay sharp."

As they slipped into the market, the air grew oppressive. The remnants of shattered goods spilled from broken crates, and abandoned carts lay twisted on their sides. The narrow lanes felt suffocating, the wreckage pressing close on either side.

"Stay close to me," Subhana murmured to the children, her knuckles white as she gripped Mehmood's hand. Maryam walked beside her, scanning the windows above for movement.

The group froze as a low growl echoed from one of the stalls.

"Sajid..." Khalid said warily, gripping his weapon.

"I see it," Sajid whispered.

From behind a stack of rotting fruit, an infected woman staggered into view. Her head lolled at an unnatural angle, and her mouth gaped wide, revealing jagged teeth slick with blood. She paused, sniffing the air before letting out a guttural screech.

"She sees us!" Shawaiz shouted.

"Hold position!" Sajid barked, raising his bat.

The infected lunged forward, its twisted limbs jerking unnaturally as it barreled toward them. Sajid met it head-on, delivering a bone-crushing swing to its head. The creature fell, but the sound of the strike echoed like a beacon.

"Movement to the right!" Majid yelled, pointing toward a dark alley where more infected emerged—three, then five, then a dozen.

"They're everywhere!" Shazia screamed, pulling a knife from her belt.

"Defensive circle!" Sajid ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos.

The group pressed together, forming a protective ring around the children and the aunties. Khalid swung his wrench in a wide arc, caving in the skull of an infected lunging for the left side.

"To your left, Moiz!" Shamir shouted.

Moiz twisted and drove his crowbar into a zombie's temple, yanking it free with a sickening crunch.

Shawaiz kicked over a broken crate, slowing another infected's advance before stabbing downward with his rebar. "Not today!"

Aysha shoved Mohid behind her and swung a length of wood at a crawling zombie, splitting its jaw. Blood sprayed across her face as she screamed and swung again, her strikes fueled by panic.

"Stay together!" Muhammad roared, stabbing one attacker before pivoting to slash another. His arms burned with every strike, but he didn't stop.

The horde grew thicker, spilling into the narrow lanes and pressing the family into a tighter circle. The snarls became deafening, drowning out the family's cries as they fought.

"This is too many!" Zaid shouted, panting as he bashed in another head.

"We hold!" Sajid bellowed, cracking his bat against a skull. "No one runs!"

Part 4: Desperate Measures

The Alam family was locked in a life-or-death struggle against the infected. The narrow lanes of the market became a nightmare—twisted paths choked with rotting debris and relentless attackers. Each second brought another claw, another gnashing maw, and more blood-soaked violence.

The family's formation strained under the pressure of the horde. Zombies attacked from every angle, their bodies piling in heaps, but the space between the survivors and the undead grew smaller with every strike.

Sajid, Majid, and Khalid: Frontline Defenders

At the center of the battle stood the elder men—Sajid, Khalid, and Majid. Their weapons swung with fierce determination, but the effort to hold the infected back was taking its toll. Sweat streamed down their faces, and their arms grew heavy with each swing.

Sajid swung his bloodied cricket bat into the head of a staggering zombie, cracking its skull with a sickening crunch. The creature's body dropped, but another surged forward to take its place.

"We need space!" Sajid yelled, his deep voice booming. "We're getting boxed in!"

"They just keep coming," Khalid growled. His wrench slammed into the jaw of an infected that lunged at him. Teeth flew as the creature crumpled to the ground, but Khalid's panting breaths revealed his waning strength. "We're not holding this much longer, Sajid!"

Majid, positioned to Khalid's right, didn't speak. He let out a guttural yell and swung his bat in a powerful arc, breaking the neck of one zombie and knocking another into a wall. Blood splattered his face, but his expression didn't falter.

"Fall back—tighten the circle!" Sajid ordered.

Khalid and Majid moved in tandem, pushing closer to the rest of the family. But the infected surged forward, sensing their weakness.

The Cousins: Fierce Fighters

Nearby, Zaid, Shawaiz, and Shamir were fighting tooth and nail to keep the horde from overwhelming their position.

"We're being crushed out here!" Zaid shouted, his hammer smashing into the side of an infected's head. Bone shattered, and the creature dropped, but more stumbled forward to take its place.

"Don't give up!" Shawaiz bellowed, kicking over a broken stall to create a makeshift barrier. His rebar flashed as he stabbed another zombie through the chest, twisting it with a vicious snarl.

"I feel like we're living a bad video game," Shamir grunted, using his pole to jab at an advancing creature. "If anyone finds an exit sign, let me know!"

"Less talking, more killing!" Moiz snapped, swinging his crowbar into the knees of a zombie lunging for him. He brought the weapon down again and again, leaving its face an unrecognizable mess.

Asmir fought near Moiz, his thin frame bracing against the tide of infected. He struck one in the chest, then jabbed his stick into its eye as it stumbled forward. "We can't stay like this!" he cried, his voice panicked.

"We won't," Zaid growled, forcing his body to move faster. "We just have to keep them off the others!"

The Women: Shielding the Children

In the middle of the circle, the aunties—Subhana, Shazia, Maryam, and Naseem—were fighting to shield the children.

"Ayesha, keep them behind us!" Subhana yelled as she thrust her makeshift spear into the chest of a snarling zombie. Its teeth snapped wildly as it collapsed, twitching.

"I've got them!" Aysha shouted back, her small frame blocking Mohid and Afeef as they huddled close. She swung a length of broken wood at an infected crawling on all fours, smashing its face with an audible crunch.

"Stay close to me!" Naseem ordered, her voice cutting through the chaos. Her knife slashed at an infected's throat, spilling dark, sticky blood across her hands.

"Mohid, don't look!" Maryam cried, pulling the little boy into her arms as an infected reached toward them. Her frying pan struck the creature's head with a dull thud, sending it sprawling.

"They're closing in from the right!" Shazia yelled, stabbing at a zombie clawing its way over a toppled cart. Blood sprayed across her face as she drove her weapon deeper. "This isn't working—we need a plan, Sajid!"

Muhammad: Furious and Unyielding

On the other side of the circle, Muhammad fought like a whirlwind, his blade flashing in deadly arcs. His rage boiled over, driving him to stab, slash, and strike with reckless abandon.

"Stay down, you bastards!" Muhammad roared as his knife buried itself in the forehead of an infected. He twisted the blade, and its body went limp, slumping to the ground.

"Muhammad!" Subhana cried out, her voice filled with desperation. "Stay close!"

"I'm doing what I have to!" Muhammad shouted back, his teeth clenched. He didn't slow, hacking away at another zombie that lunged too close. His movements were precise but brutal, each strike fueled by frustration and fear.

A Desperate Plan

"We can't win this!" Zaid yelled, his hammer cracking against another skull. "We're running out of space!"

"We need to funnel them!" Sajid shouted back. He turned to the group, his voice urgent. "Get behind the carts—create choke points! Force them into single lines!"

The family obeyed instantly, dragging over fallen carts and debris to narrow the horde's path. The infected stumbled toward them, their progress slowed by the obstacles.

"Shawaiz, Moiz—cover the sides!" Sajid barked. "Zaid, Shamir, Asmir—stay on the front!"

"We've got it!" Shawaiz replied, slamming a zombie into the wall with his rebar.

"Hold them off!" Zaid grunted as he swung again.

Escaping the Chaos

The plan worked, but the strain was immense. As the horde filtered into the narrow lanes created by the makeshift barricades, the family pushed back with renewed strength. Blows fell like hammers, bodies crumpled in heaps, and blood painted the walls.

"Clear a path!" Sajid yelled.

The family pressed forward, their weapons carving a way through the remaining infected. The moans and snarls grew quieter as the last of the horde fell behind them.

When the fight ended, the Alams were covered in blood, their bodies trembling from exertion. They stumbled into a side street, panting, but alive.

"Is it over?" Mehmood asked, his small voice trembling.

"For now," Sajid replied grimly, gripping his bat. "But we have to keep moving."

The family gathered their things and moved forward. The streets ahead were quieter, but the weight of what they'd endured clung to them like a shadow. They didn't speak, didn't pause to rest—they simply walked, survivors in a world determined to break them.

(End of Chapter)