She kept her movements silent and checked all four sides of the building. A mass of Damned was gathered along the main road. There were more along every side, but it was a much thinner herd. If she could get down to ground level and make a run for it, she was pretty sure she could find the others. The city was laid out with everything funneling in toward the monument. Eventually, she’d find her way there.
Zahra decided on a course of action, one that would swing her rather than drop her. She ran along what she guessed was the southern edge of the building, aiming for the southwest corner. She snapped open her hook’s clawed head. When she jumped, Zahra dug the claw into the rock, giving the cord enough play to make the plan work. She estimated she’d need to give the cord fifteen feet before gripping back onto it. The next part was going to hurt. Her hands were already raw, and this was bound to make things worse.
Her forward momentum took her away from the building, due west. Then, her weight took over, pulling the nylon cord tight. She swung around to the north down a tight alleyway. She took the landing in stride, hitting and rolling once before popping back up to her feet and sprinting away from the Damned. The handful that had been gathered along the rear of the building reacted too slowly, and Zahra quickly left them in the dust.
There were much fewer of them here. In fact, Zahra hardly saw any of them.
She didn’t overanalyze why the darker path was devoid of life. Zahra just kept moving as fast as she could until she came up to another crossroad. Here, there were more.
She skidded to a stop, cringing at the sound of loose pebble grinding beneath her feet. Ten of the Damned snapped their attention her way in a horrible display of choreography. They turned in unison.
They didn’t advance, though. Zahra had tucked herself into the recesses and hidden in the shadows. Her black clothing and filth-covered arms and face hid her well. Still, she wasn’t hiding behind anything. At least one of them should have been able to see her.
And the sulfurous stench was incredibly thick here too. If they couldn’t see,
The Damned didn’t change their focus away from the alley. None of them had noticed her escape.
Zahra figured it was only a matter of time before she was spotted. It was going to happen too. The next section of the road and building contained little to no shadow. This is where her tired legs couldn’t fail.
She ran and reeled in her trusty hook.
Her first step alerted the army, and they turned to greet her. There were more up ahead, as well. Zahra unclipped her grappling hook again and used it as a club for anything that might get too close. If the blows didn’t kill them, the hook would at least knock them away long enough for her to evade capture.
She took a left, and within the growing haze, she spied a low wall to the north. Gunfire announced the presence of her team. With every muzzle flash, a body dropped. The Damned were here, too.
“Zahra!” Baahir shouted, waving frantically.
She drew her pistol but waited to get closer. She didn’t have many rounds left and needed to make them count. When she was within twenty yards, she let the rest of her magazine fly, connecting with ninety percent efficiency. Not all of them were ‘kill’ shots, but she cleared the area of the immediate threat.
Rabia stepped out and crushed the skull of one of the Damned with the stock of her heavy rifle. Then, she dropped her prized weapon at her feet.
She was out of ammo.
Zahra was, too.
She holstered her Glock and embraced her brother, getting nods from Rabia and Ali. They all looked terrible, but they were alive.
“He’s here,” Baahir said.
“Khaliq?”
“Yeah, and he’s alone.”
Zahra shrugged, thinking back to Feroz’s body in the scorpion pit. “I kinda figured that.”
“No, Zahra,” Baahir said. “He’s alone. Oddly, there aren’t any of the zombies in there with him.”
“Call them ‘the Damned,’” Zahra said. “I refuse to call them ‘zombies.’”
“Fine,” Baahir shrugged, “I suggest we move into the courtyard. The
“It’s because they remember.”
They all jumped at the voice.
It belonged to Khaliq.
Zahra drew her gun, but remembered it was empty.
“Ayad!” Ali shouted. “This is all because of you!”
Khaliq seemed docile. “You’re right.”
“Wait,” Zahra said. “What?”
Khaliq held out his hands and turned completely around. “We
Rabia’s eyes darted to Khaliq’s waist. He still had a pistol holstered there. He seemed to notice the attention the firearm was getting.
