All this happened overnight, and Sika didn't know what to do. Yesterday he was a nobody, and now he was a mayor with soldiers under his command. But what they read was on another level of madness.
The message said that a village before them was experiencing a disease spreading faster than they thought, and that an army of the undead was on its way.
They had to head up the hill to survive.
One of the young men, who was on the mountain, pushed through the crowd. He was terrified, unable to even breathe, shouting, "Run! Run!"
The crowd pushed past him to reach the leader and Sika. He showed them a video he had recorded from the mountaintop. They looked at the phone, and it was a terrifying sight. A huge army of the undead was on its way to the village, just a few miles away. It turned out that the leaflets dropped by the plane had arrived too late.
The leader looked at the crowd, unable to say what to say, but he spoke anyway after looking at Sika and gesturing for him to speak.
"Everyone, gather what you can." And let him know how to run and bring his family, and let those who can walk leave the sick and elderly in the cars and go ahead of us to the hill.
The sounds of the telephone were harsh and terrifying to everyone around them, a clear indication that something terrible was going to happen in that village if they didn't hurry.
The men and young men gathered around the leader and Sika, and the women began preparing to flee by taking their belongings. The villagers came out of their homes in a panic.
None of them knew what awaited them, but they tried to appear composed. The men and young men began to spread out at the entrances to the village and protect it until the women escaped.
Silence fell, like the silence before the storm.
Some of the women headed outside with most of the elderly towards the hill, and as most of them fled, a child stood with a water bottle that fell to the ground as they walked outside.
The child noticed the bottle shaking violently as he picked it up.
His mother looked at the bottle, terrified. It was like an earthquake coming.
Some of the young men shouted from afar, but no one understood. Their Words
Sika's phone rang, and he was shocked to hear the approaching waves of the dead.
He didn't know what to do; their numbers far exceeded the available weapons.
Sika ordered the men and young men at the entrances to retreat quickly; they were powerless against this.
Large numbers of villagers were already fleeing, which reassured the leader.
But the shock came with the rapid approach and creeping advance toward the village.
Most of the villagers began to hurry, and terror gripped them. The screams of the crowd mingled with the cries of those who had vanished, and desperate pleas for help. Things were spiraling out of control, and no one knew where to go, but all eyes turned toward the door at the front, outside the village.
Their belongings were falling, but no one cared. All that mattered was living another day. How ironic death is. You like to think its visit will be by your own choice; sometimes you even want it. But as soon as it approaches, it becomes an unwelcome and burdensome guest, and you don't want it. Seeing him, near or far,
But it seemed too late. The shadow of death had fallen over the village, as if it wanted to embrace everyone at once. It was like a giant standing there, calling out their names from a long sheet of paper, leaving no one out.
Some began to give up, knowing they were an unnecessary burden, not worthy of being rescued with the rescue ships. An old man, after running away, stopped his young son and hugged him, apologizing that he would never see his son, who would be born in a few months. He then shouted at him to leave with his wife, fully aware that he would delay them and be the cause of their deaths. He shouted at his son that he had lived long enough, but his son was not yet born to live. Another old woman, unable to take another step, begged her only daughter to run and not look back. She asked her lover to carry her away because if given the choice, she would choose to die with her.
These were just two quick stories in rows pulsating with endless pages of sacrifice, hope, and despair.
A child, separated from his family, stood crying amidst the screaming crowds, pleading for survival.
He looked towards distant screams unrelated to the throng before him. It seemed the zombies had arrived, as the sounds of gunfire grew louder. The child trembled, dropping his teddy bear. But then he realized his imaginary friend was covered in mud, so he picked it up.
A young man who had been with him at the village orphanage caught the child and ran with him.
Sika and the leader ordered the men to enter the largest villa and lock the doors. The walls, perhaps, would halt the advance.
And the front gates were closed after he realized that those who had managed to escape first had to be saved to delay the advance of the dead towards them.
Not everyone understood what was really happening when they heard the sounds of warplanes approaching the village.
The shock was even greater when the dead began to advance among them. The men in the front lines at the back gates of the village died instantly after their ammunition ran out. It was a horrific sight; they were reduced to pieces in moments. Some of the men, upon realizing their fate and distress, put their weapons to their mouths and fired as a quicker way to escape the agony of being slowly consumed.
The planes drew near, and what they feared came to pass. The planes launched missiles at the entire area.
It was a scene they couldn't comprehend. How could they be fighting alongside the dead?
They were in a state of profound shock, and there was no time to think. The commander shouted to Sika and some of the men to flee to underground shelters, which existed in situations like this. This was built for the mayor, who was known to be an aggressive person. He considered all possibilities for the future, and it proved beneficial.
It was a terrifying sight as the dead poured forth in front of the villa like a flood. But they continued running after the sounds of screams and planes. Those were the last images Sika saw before he rushed inside and descended underground.
As soon as they descended, everyone felt the ground shake above them, and the sounds of missiles rattled the earth.
A few hours passed underground. None of them wanted to come out to see if there were any dead outside.
But in the end, they realized there was no hope of survival if they remained underground without water or food.
So the leader decided to go up.
He emerged, and the silence was terrifying for Sika and his companions after all those sounds. It was a silence more frightening than the missiles themselves. If they knew that the armies of the dead were still outside, it would mean their own death warrant.
The leader and two others moved forward. Minutes passed, and they didn't return.
Sika pondered what had happened. His hatred for those tyrannical regimes intensified, as the sight of the villagers, Khaja, beating everything in sight, did not deter them.