Night fell over the coastline, turning Berrechid into a labyrinth of darkness and danger. Soufiane, Amal, and Meriem moved silently toward the pier. The distant glow of fires reflected on the water, painting a surreal landscape of orange and black. Every step was careful; the sound of snapping debris could draw unwanted attention. The smell of smoke and saltwater filled their nostrils, mingling with the faint, unsettling odor of decay.
The infected were never far. Shadows darted across ruined streets, and every distant moan made them freeze. Soufiane led the way, machete ready, scanning the surroundings for any sudden movement. Amal stayed close, whispering instructions to Meriem, whose small frame moved nervously behind them. "Stay low. Keep your hands on the boat's sides when we reach it. Don't make a sound."
Reaching the pier, they saw the boat in the faint moonlight. It was battered but seaworthy. Soufiane checked the engine again; Amal hauled the supplies onboard while Meriem adjusted the blankets and packs. The horde stirred somewhere inland, distant but growing louder. Time was slipping away.
Suddenly, a low growl came from the shadows of the pier. Soufiane spun, machete raised, as a lone infected staggered toward them. Amal swung her pipe, connecting with the creature's skull, and it collapsed instantly. The brief fight reminded them that every second outside safety was dangerous.
"Move," Soufiane urged. "Now."
They pushed the boat into the waves, jumping aboard carefully. The small vessel rocked violently, but the current carried them away from the burning coastline. Behind them, the glow of fires consumed the horizon, illuminating the ruined city in flames. Amal and Meriem clung to their supplies, hearts pounding, as Soufiane guided the boat into open water.
For the first time since the apocalypse began, they felt a measure of control. The city might be lost, the infected still roaming, but tonight, they had survived together. The waves carried them toward an uncertain future, but at least they were alive—and together.
Soufiane's eyes lingered on the distant silhouette of Casablanca, smoke curling into the night sky. He clenched his fist, thinking of Younes, of Zahira, of Meriem. Tomorrow, the journey would continue, but for tonight, they had hope.