"Where—" His voice cracked. He coughed, tried again. "Where am I?"
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
Reyan turned his head. Pain shot down his neck.
Two figures sat in the dim light of what looked like a barricaded office. Desk shoved against the door. Filing cabinets stacked like a makeshift wall. A single window, covered with torn curtains.
"Samir?" His voice came out rough. "Taj?"
"Surprise," Taj said, waving lazily. One lens of his glasses was cracked but still hanging on. "Bet you weren't expecting that."
"You... you saved me. I thought you were at the supply store."
"We made it to the corner," Samir said. "Saw a woman get dragged into an alley. Heard her screaming." He stopped. Swallowed. "We ran back. Figured the office was safer than the streets."
"And found you about to become lunch," Taj added.
"My shoulder still hurts from tackling that thing, by the way."
Reyan stared at them. Words wouldn't come.
"Don't," Samir said. "We're not out of this yet."
Reality hit him all at once. Reyan stood too fast. The room tilted. "My family. I need to get home. My wife, my daughter—"
"Whoa, easy." Taj stood, hands up. "Reyan, it's not that simple."
"What do you mean it's not simple?" Panic sharpened his voice. "I have to get to them. I promised—"
"Have you looked outside?" Samir gestured at the door. "It's a warzone out there. Those things are everywhere. We step out, we're dead."
"I don't care—"
"Well, you should!" Taj cut in. "Getting yourself killed doesn't help anyone. Not us. Not your family."
"You don't understand."
"We understand fine," Samir said. "You want to be the hero. Rush home, save everyone, roll credits. But this isn't a movie. Out there—" He pointed. "That's a death sentence."
Something snapped inside Reyan. "You're right. You don't understand. Because you don't have families waiting. You don't know what it's like to know they're out there, scared, alone, waiting for you to come back like you promised."
The words landed heavy.
Samir looked down. Taj's jaw tightened.
Silence.
"I'm sorry," Reyan said quietly. The anger drained out as fast as it came. "I didn't mean—"
"You're right," Taj said. His voice was different now. Softer. "We don't. Not anymore."
Reyan froze.
"My parents are in Kolkata," Taj continued. "Called them twenty-three times. Nothing."
"My sister's here," Samir said. "Vaishali district. She lives near the old shipyard. Apartment building, fourth floor. " His voice cracked a little. "Couldn't reach her either."
The guilt hit like a punch.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"Forget it." Samir met his eyes again. "You're right about one thing though. Sitting here won't save anyone. So what's it gonna be, boss? We doing this or not?"
Reyan looked at him. "You'll come with me?"
"Do we look like we've got somewhere better to be?" Taj adjusted his broken glasses. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't get eaten in the first five minutes."
"Maybe we'll find my sister too," Samir added quietly.
Reyan nodded. "Thank you. Both of you."
"Save it for when we're actually alive." Taj moved to the door, listening. "We need weapons. Real ones."
They scrounged the office. Letter openers. Scissors. A fire extinguisher. Samir found a steel pipe. Taj grabbed a hammer. Reyan picked up a knife.
They stood at the barricaded door. Something groaned faintly on the other side.
"On three," Samir whispered. "Move the cabinet. Stay quiet. Don't stop. Ready?"
Taj nodded. Reyan's grip tightened on the knife someone had given him.
"One... two..."
"Wait." Taj grabbed Reyan's arm. "Before we do this." He looked at him. Really looked. "You said we don't have family. But we do. We have you. And we're not leaving you behind."
Reyan's throat tightened. He nodded.
"Three."