INT. LIVING ROOM – EARLY MORNING
A soft gray light filters in through the broken slits of wood across the windows. The room is quiet — too quiet.
Sanaa sits on the floor, cross-legged, her back against the cold wall. She's still wearing the same clothes from the previous night. Her fingers play with a loose thread on her sleeve, her eyes hollow, not blinking enough. A tea mug sits beside her, untouched and cold.
In the corner, Mrs. Khan has locked herself inside a room. Her sobs have stopped hours ago — now, only silence remains.
Everyone else tiptoes, speaking in murmurs.
INT. MAKESHIFT KITCHEN – SAME
Ananya, hair tied back messily, stirs a pot on the gas burner. The food's simple — rice, lentils — but she moves with purpose. She knows someone has to.
Ayush enters, silent.
ANANYA
They won't eat on their own. Not today.
AYUSH
We should make them.
She nods. No resistance. Just tired agreement.
INT. ROOFTOP – SAME TIME
Shivam patches a crack in a water pipe with scraps of rubber. Alone. Focused. His hands tremble slightly, but he doesn't stop.
A distant growl makes him pause. He glances over the edge. A walker stumbles aimlessly across the road, far below.
He breathes out. Then gets back to work.
INT. BASEMENT – LATER THAT DAY
Kartik and Ayush are clearing junk — a stack of shelves, some broken crates, rusted cans. Behind an old shelf, something metallic glints.
KARTIK
Hold up.
He reaches in, pulls out a military-style trunk. Rusted, dented, but locked.
AYUSH
Crack it open.
Kartik smashes the lock with the back of his hatchet. Inside:
• A rusted wrench
• A busted solar charger
• A crumpled ID card
The photo is faded. The name is too smudged to read. But the insignia is Indian Army.
KARTIK
Someone from the army was here before us.
Ayush eyes the charger.
AYUSH
We fix this, we might charge flashlights again.
They both nod — tired but quietly hopeful.
INT. DINING HALL – AFTERNOON
Ananya forces plates into people's hands. She doesn't ask. Just gives.
Sanaa doesn't touch hers. She stares.
Kartik walks up slowly.
KARTIK
Can you help me lift the water drums?
She doesn't react.
He tries again.
KARTIK
You don't have to talk. Just… help me. Please.
Sanaa blinks. Slowly gets up. Follows.
EXT. BACKYARD – CONTINUOUS
They reach the drums. Kartik begins tightening the rope harness.
SANAA
(softly)
He was the only reason I kept going.
Kartik pauses, hands on the rope.
KARTIK
Then keep going… for him now.
She doesn't reply. But she grabs the other end of the drum.
And they lift. Together.
INT. ROOFTOP – SUNSET
Tanya sits with a sketchbook, charcoal in hand. She draws a small portrait of Mr. Khan's funeral pyre. Her hands are steady, her expression — not.
Shivam walks up behind her, eyes scanning the horizon.
SHIVAM
Something's burning.
He points northwest. Faint smoke rises — not wildfire gray, but narrow, vertical... controlled.
Tanya looks up.
TANYA
Could be survivors.
Or trouble.
They share a glance — uncertain.
INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT
Bhargav sharpens a kitchen knife. Divya watches, chewing on a piece of dry roti.
DIVYA
Why do you do that when you're angry?
BHARGAV
Because it gives me something to fix… when I can't fix what I want to.
She doesn't push. Just nods and sits beside him.
INT. ROOFTOP GUARD STATION – LATE NIGHT
Shivam on watch. Bow in hand. Ears alert.
Suddenly — a low growl.
A dog sprints into view, terrified, bleeding.
And behind it… a blur.
A Runner.
The dog leaps past the building wall.
SHIVAM
Bhai! Ayush bhai! Kuch aa raha hai!!
Footsteps echo below.
INT. BUILDING STAIRS – CONTINUOUS
Ayush, Kartik, Bhargav, and Ishaan race down. Everyone else bolts the doors and windows.
SANAA
It's a Runner, right?
AYUSH
(voice sharp)
Maybe more.
EXT. GROUND FLOOR — NIGHT
The Runner charges — fast, twitchy, snarling, arms jerking in unnatural angles.
Martial-style Combat Begins:
Kartik dives forward first, slides under the Runner's swing, grabs its leg mid-run, and spins, slamming it into a pillar. Bricks crumble.
Ayush vaults off the wall, delivers a spinning axe kick to the jaw, then finishes with a baton jab under the chin — splattering infected blood.
Another one screeches and leaps from behind a dumpster.
Bhargav, in a low crouch, parries with his machete, slashes across the knee, then disarms it by snapping its wrist with a twist — fast, efficient.
Ishaan nearly freezes — until Ayush shouts.
AYUSH
Ishaan! Elbow to neck — now!
Ishaan lunges. Not clean, but enough to send the Runner sprawling.
It's over in seconds.
Panting. Blood on shirts. No time to breathe.
KARTIK
That was not a Walker.
AYUSH
Runners. We'll be seeing more.
INT. BUILDING – MOMENTS LATER
Back inside. Doors barred.
Ayush washes blood from his hands. His shoulders are shaking.
ANANYA
(walking to him)
Are you okay?
He looks up. Doesn't answer. She steps forward and hugs him tightly.
They stand like that. No words.
EXT. BACK LANE – NIGHT
Camera pulls out slowly.
In the distance — hidden by dark — a police van, stuck beneath rubble. Its rear doors cracked open.
Inside: military weapons. Bags. Blood.
And outside? Five more Runners... crouched. Waiting. Watching.