Sun Light broke through the hotel window, but the light brought no comfort. Alvik had barely slept, jerking awake at every sound from outside—screams that cut off abruptly, crashes of breaking glass, the guttural calls of hunting creatures. Beside him, Meera had spent the night sitting up against the headboard, keeping watch while he forced himself to rest in short intervals.
The children had finally fallen into exhausted sleep around midnight, curled together on the other bed. Rayan had one arm protectively around Nisha even in unconsciousness. Looking at them, Alvik felt his chest tighten. They were so young to face this nightmare.
A massive explosion somewhere in the distance shook the building. Dust fell from the ceiling. Rayan and Nisha woke with gasps of fear.
"It's okay," Meera said immediately, though her voice betrayed her own terror. "We're safe. The building is solid."
"What was that?" Nisha asked, tears already forming.
"I don't know, princess. But we need to leave as soon as possible. Get ready quickly."
They used the bathroom in turns, washing faces with bottled water to conserve what might be the last clean water available. Alvik checked their supplies—four bottles of water remaining, some packaged snacks, the emergency medical kit, important documents, some cash. Not enough for a prolonged journey, but it would have to do.
The hotel manager was waiting in the lobby when they descended. She looked worse than yesterday, her eyes bloodshot and her hands shaking.
"You need to leave now," she said without preamble. "The creatures are getting bolder. Last night they broke into three buildings on the eastern side of town. Killed everyone inside. The military forces that were supposed to protect us pulled out two hours ago—said they were needed elsewhere. We're on our own."
"Which direction is safest?" Alvik asked.
"No direction is safe. But the secondary road heading southeast has less traffic. Most people went north toward the cities, not realizing the cities are death traps. Go southeast, stay off main roads, avoid anywhere with lots of people."
"Thank you for the shelter."
She waved away his gratitude. "Just survive. That's all any of us can do now."
Outside, the town looked worse in daylight than it had in darkness. Buildings showed damage from creature attacks—walls clawed open, roofs collapsed, windows shattered. Bodies lay in the streets, already attracting flies despite the early hour. The few other people visible moved quickly, heads down, carrying weapons or supplies.
Their car sat where they had left it, miraculously untouched. Alvik did a quick inspection while the family got in. The windshield still showed cracks from yesterday's creature attack, but it held. The hood had a dent where he had struck that thing. Blood and scales were caught in the front grille.
He started the engine and pulled out, following the manager's directions toward the southeast road. The streets were eerily quiet except for the distant sounds of destruction. Smoke rose from multiple locations around the town. As they passed one intersection, Alvik saw a pack of creatures feasting on something he deliberately did not look at too closely.
The secondary road proved to be narrow and winding, cutting through agricultural land. Fields that should have been green with crops showed signs of fire and destruction. Farm buildings stood empty or collapsed. Once they passed a tractor lying on its side, the cab crushed by something immensely strong.
"Turn on the radio," Meera suggested. "We need to know what's happening."
The radio crackled with static at first, then locked onto an emergency broadcast. The announcer's voice was mechanical, reading prepared statements without emotion.
"This is Emergency Broadcast System Alert Number Forty-Seven. All citizens are advised that the situation continues to deteriorate nationwide. Military forces are fully deployed but facing overwhelming odds. The creatures emerging from Anex Caves number in the hundreds of thousands. Conventional weapons are proving largely ineffective against the larger specimens. Tank rounds can damage but not reliably kill most species. Air strikes have been attempted with mixed results. Nuclear weapons are being considered as a last resort."
Alvik and Meera exchanged glances. Nuclear weapons. The fact that anyone was discussing that option showed how desperate things had become.
The broadcast continued. "International reports indicate all eight continents are under simultaneous attack. North and South America report catastrophic losses in major population centers. Europe has lost contact with several countries entirely. Africa is experiencing massive creature migrations across the savannah. Australia has confirmed at least two hundred separate cave openings. Antarctica research stations have gone silent. Asia continues to report the highest casualty numbers—current estimates suggest fifteen to twenty million dead in the first seventy-two hours."
Nisha made a small sound of distress. Meera reached back to squeeze her hand.
"Asian governments are requesting all citizens evacuate urban centers immediately. Rural areas show significantly lower creature activity, though no location can be considered completely safe. Food and water supplies are becoming critical issues. Medical services are overwhelmed. Emergency services are available only in designated safe zones, a list of which will be broadcast at the top of each hour."
The broadcast shifted to a different voice, this one female and carrying barely suppressed panic.
"We're receiving reports of a new creature type emerging from red caves in multiple locations. These specimens are significantly larger and more aggressive than those from white or blue caves. Military observers classify them as Class Three threats. Citizens are advised to avoid any red cave at all costs. Do not attempt to approach. Do not attempt to engage. Flee immediately if any red cave creature is spotted in your area."
Ahead, the road curved around a small hill. As they rounded it, Alvik hit the brakes instinctively.
A creature stood in the middle of the road.
It was huge, easily five meters tall when standing upright on its hind legs. The body was covered in thick scales that looked like overlapping armor plates, each one the size of a dinner plate. The color was deep gray with streaks of rust red. Four arms sprouted from a massively muscled torso, each ending in clawed hands that could easily grip a car. The head was almost reptilian, with a wide mouth full of teeth and six small eyes arranged in a crown pattern.
It was currently feeding on something—a cow, Alvik realized, torn to pieces and being devoured with methodical efficiency. The creature ate calmly, chewing with grinding motions, its eyes scanning the surroundings even while it fed.
"Back up," Meera whispered. "Slowly."
Alvik shifted into reverse, barely touching the accelerator. The car moved backward at a crawl. The creature's head swung toward the sound. All six eyes focused on their vehicle.
For a moment, nothing happened. The creature simply stared, evaluating. Then it dropped the remains of the cow and started moving toward them.
It moved faster than something that size had any right to move. The four arms helped it maintain balance while its powerful legs drove it forward with shocking speed. The ground shook with each step.
"Go!" Meera screamed.
Alvik cranked the wheel and accelerated backward, trying to get around the curve before the creature reached them. The car fishtailed wildly. He fought to control it while watching the creature close the distance with terrifying speed.
They made it around the curve. Alvik jammed the brakes, spun the wheel, shifted to forward, and floored the accelerator. The tires squealed and found traction. They shot forward down the road they had just come from.
In the rearview mirror, the creature appeared around the curve, still pursuing. But cars were faster than even enhanced biology. The distance between them grew. After several hundred meters, the creature slowed, stopped, and watched them escape. Then it turned and lumbered back toward its interrupted meal.
Alvik's hands shook on the steering wheel. That thing could have torn their car apart with its bare hands. Those claws would have peeled the metal like paper. They had survived only because the creature had not been particularly hungry or motivated.
"We need another route," Rayan said from the back seat, his voice surprisingly steady. "That thing is blocking the southeast road."
"There's a farm road about two kilometers back," Meera said, checking her phone's map. "It cuts through fields and connects to another secondary road further east. It will add time to our journey, but we don't have a choice."
They backtracked and found the farm road—little more than a dirt track between crop fields. The car bounced over ruts and holes, suspension complaining. But it was passable, and more importantly, it was empty of creatures.
The radio continued its stream of bad news.
"Military spokesperson confirms that tank battalions engaged with creatures emerging from a red cave outside Mumbai have been destroyed. All fifteen tanks were disabled or destroyed. Casualty numbers are not yet available. The military advises that conventional armor appears ineffective against Class Three specimens."
"Tanks," Alvik said quietly. "If tanks can't stop them, what chance do we have?"
No one answered because there was no good answer.
They drove in silence for a while, the dirt road eventually connecting to pavement again. They passed through another small town that looked abandoned. Shops were broken into, their contents scattered in the streets. Houses stood empty with doors hanging open. No people visible anywhere.
"Where is everyone?" Nisha asked.
"Either hiding or they already left," Meera answered. "Or they didn't make it."
A sound made them all freeze—a high-pitched shriek from above. Alvik looked through the windshield and saw shapes circling in the sky. Flying creatures, at least a dozen of them, wheeling and diving like birds of prey.
"Don't stop," Rayan said urgently. "Keep moving."
One of the creatures dove toward the street ahead of them. It was massive, with leathery wings spanning at least ten meters. The body was long and serpentine, covered in dark blue scales. No legs but a long whiplike tail and a head that was all teeth.
It struck the ground hard enough to crack pavement, then raised its head and shrieked again. More of its kind answered, beginning to descend.
Alvik accelerated toward the creature blocking their path. "Hold on!"
The flying thing spread its wings to make itself look larger, trying to intimidate them into stopping. Alvik aimed directly at it and did not slow down. At the last second, the creature decided a car was more dangerous than it wanted to face and took flight again, wings beating powerfully to lift its bulk into the air.
They shot past underneath it, the car's roof actually scraping against its tail. More creatures swooped down around them, shrieking and snapping, but none committed to a direct attack on a moving vehicle. Within seconds they had cleared the town and left the flying pack behind.
"This is insane," Rayan said, breathing hard. "The whole world has gone completely insane."
"We're alive," Alvik reminded him. "That's what matters. We stay alive, we keep moving, we reach your grandparents."
But the journey was far from over. They drove for another hour through increasingly devastated landscape. Crashed vehicles appeared more frequently. Fires burned unchecked in forests and fields. More bodies lined the roads. The evidence of humanity's losing battle against the creatures was everywhere.
Around midday they encountered a military convoy heading in the opposite direction. Five trucks packed with soldiers, plus two armored vehicles. The convoy was moving fast, and the soldiers looked grim and exhausted.
One of the armored vehicles had visible damage—deep gouges in its side armor, claw marks that went almost through the steel. If those things could damage military armor, civilian car metal would offer no protection at all.
"They're retreating," Meera observed. "The military is pulling back."
The radio confirmed her assessment minutes later.
"Breaking news: Multiple military units have received orders to withdraw from rural areas and consolidate defensive positions around designated safe zones. A government spokesman stated that available forces are insufficient to protect the entire countryside. Citizens in rural areas are advised to make their way to the nearest safe zone or shelter in place with adequate supplies. A list of confirmed safe zones follows."
The announcer began reading locations. Most were military bases or reinforced government buildings in major cities. The nearest one to their current location was over two hundred kilometers away in the opposite direction from Meera's parents' village.
"We're not going to a safe zone," Meera said firmly. "My parents are alone. We're getting to them."
"I agree," Alvik said. "Family first."
They continued driving, now with the knowledge that no military help was coming. They were on their own in a world rapidly descending into chaos.
The afternoon brought new horrors. They witnessed a creature emerging from a blue cave that had opened in a field beside the road. This one looked almost humanoid but wrong in every way. Too tall, too thin, with arms that reached below its knees. Its face had too many features arranged incorrectly. It moved with jerky, unnatural motions.
As they watched, it spotted a family running across the field—a man, woman, and child trying to reach a farmhouse in the distance. The creature gave chase with impossible speed, covering ground in huge loping strides. The family never reached the farmhouse.
Alvik forced himself to look away and keep driving. There was nothing he could do. Stopping would only add his family to the death toll.
They passed a wrecked bus lying on its side, windows shattered, interior splashed with red. Something large had torn the entire roof off to get at the passengers inside. Luggage and personal belongings were scattered across a hundred meters of road.
"Don't look," Meera told the children, though she herself could not seem to turn away from the carnage.
Near sunset, they encountered what had to be a creature from a red cave. They never saw it clearly, only its effect. A massive shape moved through a forest on their left, snapping trees like twigs. Each footfall shook the ground hard enough to feel in the car. When it roared, the sound was so deep and powerful that it vibrated in their chests and made their ears ring.
The creature was heading away from the road, but it left a path of destruction fifty meters wide. Trees were simply gone, crushed into the soil or snapped off and scattered. The earth itself looked churned, like a plow had torn through it.
"Class Three," Rayan whispered, using the military classification they had heard on the radio. "That's what they call a Class Three."
"How do you fight something like that?" Nisha asked.
The answer was becoming clear—you didn't fight it. You ran and hoped it didn't notice you.
As darkness approached again, they faced another decision about shelter. The map showed a larger town ahead, but after yesterday's experience and seeing how many towns were now ruins, Alvik was reluctant.
"There," Meera pointed. "That farmhouse looks intact. Maybe we could ask the owners if we could shelter there for the night."
The farmhouse sat back from the road, a solid two-story structure with a barn behind it. Smoke rose from the chimney, indicating people inside. They turned onto the long driveway and approached slowly, not wanting to startle anyone who might be armed and frightened.
A man emerged from the house before they reached it, carrying a rifle. He was in his fifties, wearing work clothes, his face hard with suspicion and exhaustion.
Alvik stopped the car and got out slowly, keeping his hands visible. "We mean no harm. We're traveling to my wife's parents' village. We're looking for a safe place to spend the night. We can pay for the space."
The man studied them for a long moment. He looked at Meera and the children still in the car, then back at Alvik.
"How much cash you got?" he asked bluntly.
"Five thousand rupees."
"Make it seven and you can use the barn. No lights after dark. No noise. If creatures come, you're on your own—I'm not risking my family for strangers. Deal?"
"Deal."
Money changed hands. The man gestured toward the barn with his rifle. "Water pump is around back. Outhouse is there. Don't come to the main house for any reason. We leave at dawn—you should too."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. This is business, not charity. World's gone to hell and everyone's got to survive however they can."
He turned and walked back into his house, locking the door behind him. Alvik heard multiple locks engaging.
The barn was musty but dry, with hay bales stacked in one corner. It would do. They parked the car inside and closed the large doors, leaving them unlocked for quick escape if needed. The family settled onto the hay, spreading out their few blankets.
Through the gaps in the barn walls, they could see the last light fading from the sky. Within an hour, full darkness had fallen. The only sounds were insects and the distant calls of creatures hunting in the night.
They ate a cold meal of packaged food and rationed water. No one spoke much. The day had been filled with too many horrors, too much death. Words felt insufficient to process what they had witnessed.
"Daddy," Nisha said quietly. "Will we make it to Grandma and Grandpa's house?"
Alvik wanted to promise her they would. He wanted to guarantee their safety. But he had already seen too many people die, too much destruction, to make promises he could not keep.
"We'll do everything we can to get there," he said instead. "We're being smart, being careful, staying together. That gives us the best chance."
"But you saw those things today. How do we survive against monsters like that?"
"By not fighting them," he answered honestly. "By running when we need to run, hiding when we need to hide, being faster and smarter instead of stronger. We're not heroes, princess. We're just a family trying to survive. And that's okay. Surviving is enough."
She seemed to accept that answer, curling up against her mother and closing her eyes. Rayan was already asleep, exhausted beyond his ability to stay awake. Meera looked at Alvik across the dim barn, her eyes reflecting the faint moonlight coming through the wall gaps.
"Four days ago, you closed a business deal," she said softly. "We celebrated. Everything was perfect."
"I know."
"Now we're sleeping in a stranger's barn because our home is destroyed and monsters hunt in the streets."
"I know."
"How did this happen so fast?"
"I don't know. But it did happen. This is our reality now."
She was quiet for a moment, then reached across to take his hand. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"If it comes down to it, if we can't all survive, you save the children. Not me, not you. Them first, always."
"Meera—"
"Promise me, Alvik."
He squeezed her hand tightly. "I promise. But it won't come to that. We're all going to make it."
She didn't argue, but he saw the doubt in her eyes. She had seen the same things he had today. She knew how slim their chances truly were.
They tried to sleep in shifts, one person always awake and watching. But exhaustion claimed them all eventually. Alvik drifted off sometime after midnight, his last conscious thought being that they had survived one more day.
Tomorrow they would continue the journey. Tomorrow they would face new dangers and new horrors. Tomorrow the world would continue its collapse into nightmare.
But tonight, they were together, they were sheltered, they were alive.
Outside, something massive moved through the darkness. Its footsteps shook the ground. Its breathing was like wind through caves. It paused near the barn, perhaps sensing the humans inside, perhaps just resting.
Alvik woke partially, heart racing, hand reaching for his family. But the creature moved on without attacking, continuing its patrol through the ruined countryside.
When dawn finally came, they emerged from the barn to find the farmhouse empty. The man and his family had left during the night without warning, taking everything they could carry. Smart, Alvik thought. Trust no one, depend on no one, survive at any cost.
The radio reported that casualties worldwide now exceeded fifty million and were rising by the hour. Modern civilization was collapsing under the onslaught. The creatures continued to pour from the caves without pause.
And somewhere far ahead, Meera's parents waited, hopefully still alive, hopefully still safe.
"Let's go," Alvik said, starting the car. "We have a long way still to travel."
They pulled out onto the road as the sun rose on the fifth day of humanity's nightmare, and continued their desperate journey into an uncertain future.
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