The early morning sunlight barely pierced the dense smoke lingering over Berrechid. Soufiane, Amal, and Meriem moved carefully through the ruined streets, every sound amplified in the eerily quiet neighborhood. Broken cars, burnt furniture, and shattered windows lined their path. The air carried a mix of smoke, dust, and decay. Soufiane's grip on his machete was firm, each step measured and deliberate. Amal's pipe swung lightly in her hand, and Meriem, though frightened, followed closely, her eyes wide and alert.
"This street is too exposed," Soufiane whispered, scanning the rooftops. "We'll stick to the alleys and shadows."
Amal nodded. "We need supplies for the journey. Food, water, anything to make it through the night and get to the coast."
They split briefly, each searching different areas of the abandoned district. Soufiane found a small convenience store, its glass doors shattered, shelves half-empty. He scavenged cans of beans, water bottles, and a few medical supplies left untouched. Amal found a stash of biscuits and a couple of first aid kits hidden in a corner, while Meriem recovered some blankets and a small backpack.
When they regrouped, their packs were modest but sufficient for the short-term escape. Soufiane surveyed the neighborhood, noticing signs of recent movement—footprints in dust, broken glass scattered differently than the first wave of destruction. "We're not alone," he said quietly, a shiver running down his spine.
"Could be survivors… could be infected," Amal replied, scanning the shadows. "Either way, we need to move fast. The city won't stay quiet for long."
They retraced the streets toward the outskirts, heading for the old industrial district where Soufiane had hidden the fishing boat days before. Along the way, the distant cries of the infected reached them intermittently, reminding them that the danger was never far behind. Each turn of a corner, each narrow alley brought tension, every shadow threatening sudden violence.
By late afternoon, they reached the pier. The boat was still there, bobbing gently in the water, almost serene compared to the chaos around them. Soufiane and Amal inspected it carefully, checking the hull, oars, and engine for functionality. Meriem watched silently, her fear tempered by a growing sense of hope.
"This could get us out," Soufiane said finally. "But we need to move before nightfall. The horde won't wait."
Amal nodded, a determined glint in her eyes. "We survive together. We leave together."
The three of them prepared the boat as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the water and the burning city behind them.