Rain tapped a patient rhythm on the tin roof all night, as though the world outside were trying to remember what calm once sounded like. Inside the grocery, the six survivors had carved out a fragile peace. Reet slept sitting up against a shelf, laptop clutched to her chest like a relic. Amira had curled up beside her father on a folded blanket near the counter.

When morning came, the light through the cracked glass looked bruised - a dim violet glow cut by drifting smoke from somewhere far away.

Noah was first to stir, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Still breathing," he murmured, as if checking the day itself hadn't stopped working.

Aadi scanned the shutter's edge; the street beyond was quiet, only the whisper of wind through overturned signs.

For a few hours, the world pretended to be ordinary. They sorted canned food, counted water bottles, argued about whether to stay another night. Rian tuned a half-broken guitar they'd found behind the counter. A fragile melody slipped through the aisles - warm, human.

Ethan, the shopkeeper, stood by the window, his hand resting on the sill. The band's chatter barely reached him. His eyes, hollow with sleeplessness, were fixed on something outside - something that didn't move yet felt too alive.

Reet joined him quietly.
"You should eat," she said.
He smiled faintly. "I'll eat when it feels safe to breathe again."

Amira sat cross-legged on the floor, drawing with the stub of a pencil. The page was a storm of colors - blue walls, red sky, stick figures. When Reet crouched beside her, the girl grinned.
"This is you," she said, pointing at a figure holding a bow.
"You gave me a weapon?" Reet chuckled.
"You already had one. I just drew it."

Something about that line made Reet blink.
You already had one.

By noon the rain had thickened, tapping harder, like fingers drumming to wake something buried. Dev lifted the shutter halfway to check the street. The smell hit first—iron and rot carried on damp air.

"Something's wrong," he said.

Across the road, a man staggered out of an alley, soaked and shivering. His skin looked burned by ink; dark veins crawled up his arms. Ethan's breath caught.
"That's ... that's my neighbor."

Before anyone could stop him, Ethan banged on the glass. "Ravi! Over here!"

The man's head snapped up... and the world shifted. His eyes were hollow wells; his jaw worked like a machine learning hunger.

Aadi yanked Ethan back. "Shutter down. Now!"

The thing shrieked, a sound of rust tearing metal, and the noise woke the street. Shapes began moving between cars, drawn by the echo.

"Lights out," Eli hissed, switching off the bulb over the counter.

Darkness swallowed them except for a thin bar of daylight at the shutter's base. Feet scuffed outside - too many.

Rian whispered, "So much for quiet mornings."

Noah's hands trembled as he loaded the single hunting bow they'd found among the supplies–old but usable. He turned to Reet. "You know how to—"

She took it from him without a word. Her fingers knew the weight before her mind did. A strange calm slid through her chest, cool and inevitable.

The first impact shattered the front window. Amira screamed; Dev pulled her behind a shelf. Shards rained like cold rain.

Aadi barked orders. "Cover the sides! Don't let them through!"

Reet moved before thinking. An arrow flew—clean, fast, perfect. It struck the first creature in the eye. Then another. Her body felt disconnected, guided by something older than memory.

Eli stared. "She ... she's not missing."

The store became a storm of motion. Rian swung a metal rod, cracking skulls. Dev hauled a shelf down to block the broken window. Noah reloaded arrows, hands slick with sweat.

Ethan grabbed a pipe from the floor, shouting, "Stay back from my daughter!" His voice cracked halfway between fury and despair.

Reet's arms burned; every shot hit where it shouldn't have been possible. The world flickered - frames missing from a film. For an instant, she saw faint words scrawled in the air before her eyes, dissolving as she blinked.

Arrow flies. Target falls. Protect the child.

Then it was gone, leaving only the ringing in her ears.

They fought until silence returned - a silence louder than the screams had been.

The shop reeked of sweat and blood. Broken glass glittered in puddles of rainwater leaking through the roof. Amira clung to her father, crying soundlessly.

Aadi checked the barricade. "We can't stay long. More'll come when they hear that noise."
Rian wiped blood from his cheek. "Then where do we even go? The city's-"

"Alive," Reet interrupted softly, still holding the bow. Her voice didn't sound like her own. "It's still alive. We just have to keep moving."

Ethan looked at her - the girl who used to buy noodles here, now standing amid corpses with a weapon steadier than her heartbeat. He wanted to ask how, but the question died in his throat.

Instead he said, "Thank you."

Reet nodded once, hollowly, then crouched beside Amira.
"Hey, it's over. Look at me."

Amira raised her tear-streaked face. "Are they gone?"
"For now," Reet said. "We'll keep you safe, I promise."

The little girl's eyes drifted to her sketchbook lying nearby, splattered with dust and blood. The drawing she'd made the night before was smudged. Only four figures were still clear; the others had faded completely, erased by the fight's chaos.

Amira whispered, "They're getting blurrier."

Reet didn't understand—not yet—but something cold brushed the back of her mind. She folded the page carefully and tucked it into the child's pocket. "Keep this safe, okay? It's proof we're still here."

Outside, thunder rolled again - a warning or applause.

Inside, eight hearts beat unevenly, clinging to the rhythm of survival.

The rain showed no sign of stopping.

---

END OF CHAPTER- 5

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