After experiencing a surge of newfound energy, Shihab found himself standing once more. His body, miraculously, was completely healed, his leg mended, his wounds vanished. He had no idea how this happened, but he was grateful that he was alive. before him, the system screen flickered back to life. The words blazed across the display: [You Have A New Quest: Kill All The Zombies and Gain A New Weapon.]
Shihab stared at the words, a mix of confusion and bewilderment washing over him. What did this even mean? He pushed the thoughts aside, overwhelmed with gratitude for his survival. Just then, a zombie lurched towards him, its decaying hands outstretched. To Shihab's astonishment, he moved with incredible speed, effortlessly dodging the attack. More zombies swarmed him, their rotting forms lunging. Each time, Shihab responded with a grace he didn't know he possessed, evading their grasp with an uncanny skill. In his hand, a dagger materialized, its origin a mystery. With a deep breath, Shihab steeled his resolve. He had no choice but to fight.
Shihab swung his bloodied machete, cutting down another shambling corpse. The zombies fell in heaps around him, their inhuman moans fading into the night. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn't stop, he couldn't stop. Suddenly a scream pierced the chaos. It was a woman's scream and it was close.
He spun toward the sound. A few yards away, a car rocked violently as rotting hands clawed at its windows. Inside, a woman clutched her two children, their terrified cries barely audible over the snarls of the undead.
Shihab didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward, driving his blade into the skull of the nearest zombie. Another turned, jaws snapping, he crushed its temple with the butt of his weapon. Within seconds, the creatures lay motionless.
Panting, he yanked the car door open. The woman flinched, shielding her kids.
"You're safe now," Shihab said, voice low but firm. "But you need to go. Right now."
The mother stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "T-thank you, but… where? The streets are—"
"Anywhere but here." He scanned the shadows. More figures lurched in the distance. "Drive fast. Don't stop for anything."
She swallowed hard, then nodded. The engine roared to life as Shihab slammed the door shut. "May Allah protect you," she whispered through the glass before speeding away.
He watched the taillights vanish into the smoke. One less tragedy tonight, he thought.
Then he tightened his grip on the machete. The fight wasn't over.
Shihab moved cautiously through the abandoned streets, his dagger dripping with blackened zombie blood. The distant moans of the undead echoed between buildings, but his attention snapped forward when he rounded a corner. A horde of at least thirty zombies surrounded a small supermarket, their decaying hands pounding against the glass doors and boarded-up windows.
Inside, shadowy figures darted behind shelves. A child's muffled sob carried through the cracked door. Shihab ducked behind a wrecked car, assessing options. His eyes landed on a delivery truck that had crashed into a lamppost, its driver's door hanging open.
"Please give me strength" he prayed, creeping toward the vehicle. The stench of gasoline mixed with rotting flesh as he peered inside. A middle-aged man slumped over the wheel, blood trickling from his forehead but his chest still moving. Alive.
Shihab shook the driver's shoulder. "Hey! Can you hear me?" No response. He checked the man's pulse - strong but unconscious - then dragged him carefully to the passenger seat. The keys dangled invitingly in the ignition.
The engine roared to life as Shihab slammed the gearshift into drive. "Time for a new kind of shopping spree," he growled, flooring the accelerator.
The truck plowed through the zombie crowd with sickening thuds. Limbs flew as the heavy vehicle carved a path to the supermarket entrance. Through the windshield, Shihab saw wide-eyed faces staring from inside - a mix of terror and sudden hope.
He skidded to a stop, killing the engine and hauling the unconscious driver over his shoulder. As he kicked open the supermarket door, a dozen people scrambled back in fear.
"Help me with him!" Shihab commanded, laying the driver on a checkout counter. A woman in a white lab coat rushed forward, pressing a clean cloth to the head wound.
"Who... who are you?" stammered a teenage boy clutching a baseball bat.
"Someone who doesn't like zombies," Shihab said, wiping his hands. "Have you contacted authorities?"
An elderly man laughed bitterly. "Police said 'good luck' before the lines went dead. The whole city's gone mad!"
From the back, a young mother clutching a baby cried out, "They're coming back! The ones you missed!" Sure enough, the remaining zombies were regrouping outside.
Shihab peered through the security bars. The truck had taken out about half of them. "Then we'll need to be smarter than them," he said, turning to face the desperate survivors. We all need to fight,who's with me?"
The group exchanged nervous glances as the pounding at the doors grew louder...
The supermarket's lights flickered as the survivors huddled near the shattered front windows. The zombies' gnarled hands slapped against the reinforced glass, their hungry moans growing louder. Shihab wiped sweat from his brow and looked at the faces of the frightened crowd.
"We all need to work together and act," he said, his voice steady. "If we don't fight now, we die here."
An old man with a cane scoffed, his wrinkled face twisting in disbelief. "Are you crazy? What can we even do against them?" He gestured wildly at the horde outside. "We're not soldiers!"
A heavyset man in a torn shirt crossed his arms. "You want to go out there and commit suicide? Fine, go ahead! But the rest of us aren't moving from here."
Silence followed. Then, a young man barely older than twenty stepped forward, his sister right beside him. "He's right," the brother said, jaw set. "Hiding won't solve anything. If we stay, they will break in. And then what? We let them kill us? Kill the kids?"
His sister nodded, gripping a fire extinguisher like a weapon. "We have to fight if we want to see our families again. At least we can try for their sake."
Shihab saw the shift in the room. A few hesitant nods. The mother clutching her baby tightened her grip, but her eyes burned with resolve.
"Good," Shihab said. "Here's the plan."
Minutes later, they scavenged the supermarket bleach, rubbing Chemicals and motor oil from the back storage. A stack of empty soda bottles became their arsenal. The brother and sister helped Shihab haul the supplies to the roof access, while a few others stood guard below.
"Fill them halfway," Shihab instructed, unscrewing a water bottle. "Too much and they'll explode in your hands."
They worked quickly, stuffing rags into the necks of the makeshift Molotovs. Below, the zombies had begun pounding harder, cracks spiderwebbing across the glass.
"Now!" Shihab shouted.
The first bottle sailed through the air, shattering against a cluster of undead. The second followed, dousing them in fuel. Then, the brother struck a match and tossed it.
Flames engulfed the horde, fire licking up their rotting limbs. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as the creatures shrieked an unnatural, guttural sound. The survivors watched, some in horror, others in grim satisfaction, as the zombies writhed and collapsed.
The remaining ghouls staggered back, their hollow eyes reflecting the inferno. For the first time, they hesitated.
"They're scared of fire!" the sister realized.
Shihab nodded. "Now, before it spreads water barrels, now!"
They rushed downstairs, rolling out industrial-sized water containers from the stockroom. Working together, they doused the flames before they could reach the building.
As the last embers died, an eerie quiet settled over the street. The survivors stood in stunned silence, the reality of what they'd just done sinking in.
The old man, still gripping his cane, let out a shaky breath. "Well... wh
at now?"
Shihab wiped soot from his face and smirked. "Now? We get ready for round two."