"Wait."
Samir's foot hit the brake.
"What?" Reyan asked.
"That." Samir pointed.
Between two warehouses, half-hidden by overgrown weeds, sat a house. The windows were boarded. Door closed. But something was mounted on a post outside.
The truck pulled up beside them. Karan leaned out. "What are we looking at?"
Samir slid the window open "House," he said . "Someone's house."
They sat there. Engines running. Nobody moving.
"There's something on that post," Vikram said, squinting. "A sign maybe?"
Karan put the truck in park. Stepped out. Rifle ready.
"Karan, wait—" Meera started.
"I'm just looking." He approached slowly. Stopped about ten feet from the post. "It's a bell."
"A what?" Reyan got out of the sedan.
"A bell. Like a hotel desk bell." Karan moved closer. "And a sign."
The others started getting out. Slowly. Weapons ready. Eyes scanning the street for movement.
Karan read the sign out loud. "Ring bell if alive. Traps inside." He looked back at them. "Someone was living here."
"Key word: was," Taj said. "Past tense. Which means they're probably dead now."
"Or they left," Vikram offered.
"The sign says traps," Meera pointed out. She had her rifle up, aimed at the house like it might attack. "We should keep moving."
"There might be supplies," Reyan said.
"There might be infected," Meera countered.
"The sign says to ring the bell," Dev said quietly. "Maybe we should?"
They all looked at Karan.
He reached out. Rang it once.
The sound was bright. Clear. Loud enough to make everyone flinch.
They waited.
Nothing.
"Ring it again," Reyan said.
Karan did. Same result. No movement from inside. No sound. No response.
"They're not here," Ravi said. First time he'd spoken in an hour.
"Or they're dead," Taj added.
"Or it's a trap," Meera said again.
Karan approached the door. Tried the handle. It turned.
"Unlocked," he said.
"Great. So we definitely shouldn't go in," Taj said.
But Karan was already pushing it open. Slowly. Carefully.
Then he stopped.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
"What?" Meera moved up beside him. Looked. "Shit."
Reyan joined them at the entrance.
Just inside, a floorboard was balanced on two paint cans. Rope ran from it up to a shelf on the wall. The shelf was stacked with thick books.
"That's a trap," Dev said unnecessarily.
"The sign did warn us," Vikram pointed out.
"Step on that board," Karan said, "and about fifty pounds of medical textbooks land on your head."
"Effective," Samir admitted.
"Insane," Meera corrected. "Who does this?"
"Someone who's scared," Reyan said quietly.
They stood there, crowded in the doorway, nobody wanting to be the first one in.
"We should go," Meera said. "This is stupid. We don't know what else is in there."
"There might be food," Samir argued. "Medicine. Supplies we need. "
Or maybe a hint of Nisha.
"Or more traps that'll kill us," Meera argued.
"I'll go," Karan said. "Everyone else stays here."
"Like hell," Meera said. "You're not going in alone."
"Then we both go. Everyone else waits outside. I
"Karan—"
"That's an order."
Karan and Meera stepped carefully around the trap. Hugging the wall. Moving slow.
The others watched from the doorway.
"This is how people die in movies," Taj whispered.
"Shut up," Vikram hissed back.
Inside, Karan and Meera moved through the small living room. Checking corners. Looking for movement. For threats.
"Clear," Karan called back. "Living room's clear."
"Kitchen?" Reyan called.
"Checking."
A pause. Then: "Kitchen's clear too. No infected. But there's..." Karan's voice trailed off.
"But what?" Samir asked.
"Come look at this. Carefully. Watch where you step."
They filed in one by one. Stepping around the trap. Backs against the wall.
The house was dim. Sunlight leaked through gaps in the boards over the windows, cutting the rooms into stripes of light and shadow.
On the kitchen counter: empty cans. Lids peeled back. Besides, seven more cans still sealed.
"Someone was rationing," Meera said.
"Smart," Karan added.
A water bottle sat next to the cans. Half-empty. Cap off. Two more water bottles full.
"They left recently," Vikram said. "Water's not evaporated yet."
Ravi was looking at something else. "There."
He pointed to the back door. Fishing line stretched across it at ankle height. Cans dangled from the line.
"Another trap," Dev said. "Noise trap this time. Anyone comes through, the cans rattle."
"Whoever was here knew what they were doing," Karan said.
Arjun had moved to the living room. "There's a phone here. On the table."
They gathered around it. Old phone. Cracked screen. Dead.
"Could be something on it," Dev said. "If we could charge it."
"Maybe," Karan said. He wasn't looking at the phone anymore. He was looking past it. At the kitchen table.
"What is that?"
They followed his gaze.
A map. Spread out. Held down by a coffee mug with a brown ring stained into the porcelain.
Samir moved toward it. Stopped. "Should I—"
"Careful," Meera warned.
Samir reached out slowly. Picked up the mug. Set it aside. The map stayed flat.
It showed Niraya. Old. Creased. But someone had marked it up with black marker.
"Vaishali District," Samir said, pointing. "Circled here."
"And an X," Vikram added. "Over the shopping complex."
"What's that?" Taj pointed to something else on the map. Farther east.
A square. Clean lines. Deliberately drawn. Traced twice to make it stand out.
A short line extended from one side.
And beside it, in small handwriting: Still lit.
"Still lit?" Reyan read it out loud. "What does that mean?"
"Generator maybe?" Vikram suggested. "Somewhere with power?"
"Or lights," Dev said. "Like a beacon."
"Or it's nothing," Taj said. "Could be gibberish."
But Samir was staring at the location.
Everyone looked at the map.
Samir said, "someone marked it. Someone thought it was important enough to mark."
A sound made them all freeze.
Metallic. Faint. From somewhere in the house.
Weapons came up instantly.
"What was that?" Dev whispered.
Karan moved toward the sound. Kitchen. Back door. He looked at the fishing line trap.
The cans were swaying slightly.
"Wind," he said after a moment. "Just wind rattling them through a crack in the door."
Everyone relaxed. Slightly.
"This place is creeping me out," Taj said.
"Agreed," Vikram said. "We should go."
But Reyan was still looking around. Something was bothering him. Something was wrong.
On the floor. Near the entrance. A kitchen knife. Eight inches. Blade clean.
And beside it, a revolver.
They moved back to the entrance. Karan crouched down. Picked up the gun carefully. Checked it.
"One bullet," he said.
"That's it?" Meera asked. "One?"
"One bullet left." Karan set it back down. "Whoever was here, they used the rest."
"Or saved one," Taj said quietly. "Last resort kind of thing."
Nobody argued with that.
"Why leave it?" Samir asked. "Why leave a gun on the floor?"
Meera was looking at the knife. At the gun. At their positions. "They dropped them. See? They're not placed. They're just... there. Like someone let go in a hurry."
"Or got grabbed," Vikram said.
"Don't," Taj said. "Don't say that."
"We should take what we can," Karan decided. "The food. Water. The map. That gun."
"What about the phone?" Dev asked.
"That too. Maybe we can charge it later."
They worked quickly. Nobody wanted to stay longer than necessary. The house felt wrong. Felt haunted by whoever had been here. By whatever had made them leave everything behind.
Samir folded the map carefully. Slid it into his pocket.
Arjun grabbed the canned food. "Seven cans. Better than nothing."
The two water bottles. The phone. The gun.
Then the bell rang.
Everyone froze.
The sound was clear. Bright. Coming from right outside the front door.
Someone had rung the bell.
Weapons came up instantly. Karan motioned for silence. Moved toward the entrance, rifle ready.
The bell rang again.