Wu Dayong’s eyes shifted guiltily, avoiding Tian Hui’s question.
These strangers were all carrying weapons, exuding a faint scent of blood and an overwhelming sense of pressure. The scene fell into an eerie silence until a man stepped forward. “You guys are…”
Before he could finish his sentence, a loud bang echoed through the room. Everyone watched as a bloody hole opened in his chest.
“Ah! Murder!!” someone shrieked.
Thump.
A zombie’s head rolled across the floor, its dilated pupils staring straight at the crowd. Its mouth was still opening and closing, and the jagged bits of flesh clinging to the severed neck left several bloody smears on the carpet.
Tian Hui recognized it as her husband. She pressed her hand firmly over her mouth, letting out a low, grief-stricken sob.
Another shot rang out, and the man who had screamed the loudest was shot through the head.
A burly man signaled with a gesture for them to be quiet if they didn’t want to die. “Don’t be nervous. We’re just here to take shelter. Such a nice place should be shared by everyone, shouldn’t it?”
The man with the axe curled his lip and violently swung his weapon into the zombie’s head several times. He didn’t stop until the skull shattered and dark, murky blood splattered everywhere.
The crowd watched this scene with a mixture of terror and revulsion. The more faint-hearted among them trembled uncontrollably, gagging as tears and mucus streamed down their faces.
“We can leave. We won’t take anything with us,” Yang Minghao negotiated in a low, submissive voice.
The burly man smiled and shook his head, scanning the terrified expressions of the group with satisfaction. “From now on, to ensure we all get along, I hope you’ll cooperate. Put down whatever you’re holding and squat against the wall.”
Facing a gang of ruthless killers, the group could only comply to save their lives.
Several of the men cast lewd, murky glances at the women. Chou Xiang stepped forward and grabbed a young woman by the hair. Looking at her terrified expression, he broke into a perverted smile.
“Go find the rest of the people first.”
Upon hearing Brother Scar’s command, Chou Xiang finally restrained himself.
“Big brother, there are two women in that room inside. Young and beautiful,” Wu Dayong said with a fawning smile. He knew exactly what would happen to anyone who fell into the hands of these people; this was the price for offending him. “They were the first ones from our group to go to the mall, so they have the most supplies. But they’re tough nuts to crack.”
“Is that so? I’d like to see just how tough they are.” Chou Xiang looked at the knife in his hand. “Tough ones are more fun to play with.”
Song Jinhe’s physical condition had worsened. Her head was filled with the chaotic static of an old television screen. Her eyelids felt burning and heavy, her lips were pale and peeling, and her thoughts were stalling. Her body refused to obey her; even lifting a finger felt like an immense struggle.
But she knew someone was coming this way, and they were armed.
That sound just now—was it a gunshot?
She couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or if it was reality. A sense of dread made her heart race and her breathing grow shallow. The footsteps of those outside were drawing closer.
Song Jinhe bolted upright like a corpse and looked at Zhang Yi. “Something’s wrong. Hide in the closet, now.”
“Wh—what’s happening…” Zhang Yi was completely bewildered.
“Hurry! There’s no time!”
The intruders were already at the door.
“Oh, okay.” Zhang Yi nodded and got up to open the closet door. Although she didn’t know what was going on, she trusted Jinhe.
There were two knocks on the door before the people outside began smashing the lock. Curled up inside the closet, Zhang Yi’s heart hammered against her ribs.
Song Jinhe opened the supply bags and moved some items into her space, leaving behind only the worst-tasting green-packaged instant noodles. She lay back down in bed, her right hand gripping a kitchen knife tightly. She stared at the vibrating door, struggling to stay conscious.
Bang!
The door was kicked open.
The first to enter was a young man wearing two layers of expensive jackets. When he saw Song Jinhe lying half-dead on the bed, her eyes bloodshot, he froze for a second. He then picked up the thermometer from the table and cursed his bad luck.
“She’s actually infected. Weren’t there supposed to be two? Where’s the other woman?”
Cheng Yan, who had been pushed into the room with a knife held to his throat, steadied himself and spoke. “I told her to stay here and watch, but she might have hidden because she was scared.”
“A waste. She’s so pretty, and I even liked the look in her eyes just now.” Chou Xiang walked forward with his knife, the tip moving up and down as he pointed it at Song Jinhe. “I almost can’t bring myself to do it. Tell you what—beg me, and I’ll try to make your death a bit more comfortable.”
Song Jinhe stared at the psychopath in silence, the handle of the knife digging painfully into her palm.
She remembered who these people were. They were the same group that had found her in the hospital in her previous life. In her memories, she had seen the man with the buzz cut holding a knife to Cheng Yan’s throat.
He had mentioned that this group had found a decent place to stay in the city, slaughtered a group of survivors, and kept a few women.
Song Jinhe suddenly felt as though an invisible hand had already arranged everything in the shadows. No matter which path she took, she couldn’t avoid the encounters she was meant to have.
Under normal circumstances, she might have had a chance to escape. But in her current state, she could only hope to take one down with her in a sneak attack. Song Jinhe closed her eyes, her breath like a thin thread, quietly masking the cold murderous intent in her gaze.
Since they were the same group, their behavior would be the same. At this stage, they wouldn’t easily kill people who were useful.
“Don’t touch her!” Cheng Yan shouted anxiously. “She’s not necessarily infected. I’m a doctor from the Third Municipal Hospital. I’ve seen many infected patients.”
Hearing this, the man with the axe immediately signaled his companion to release Cheng Yan. He patted Cheng Yan’s collar and threatened him calmly, “You’d better be able to prove you’re a doctor. Otherwise, I’ll beat your brains out!”
“My ID is in my backpack.”
The buzz-cut man went to Cheng Yan’s room and returned with the backpack and ID. “This kid really is a doctor. There’s an official seal on the photo.”
Having said that, he seemed to think of something and turned to Cheng Yan. “You guys drove out of the hospital in two SUVs? Where are they parked?”
“Parking Lot C,” Cheng Yan said, naming the first parking lot they had used. He allowed them to frisk him and take the car keys.
“Smart move. Where’s the other set of keys?” The axe-man’s gaze darkened.
Song Jinhe slowly pulled the car keys from under her pillow. Her fingers went limp, and the keys dropped to the floor. she looked the picture of a terminally ill patient with more breath going out than coming in.
If she didn’t hand over the keys, they would search her. Now was not the time to strike back.
“Don’t touch these two for now,” the axe-man said, glancing at Chou Xiang. “The others don’t matter.”
Doctors and those with talents were scarce resources; their boss had made that clear long ago.
Chou Xiang picked up the keys. He scrutinized Cheng Yan and Song Jinhe’s expressions as he walked slowly toward the closet. Seeing no reaction on their faces, he yanked the closet door open. Seeing only neatly folded quilts and two hanging coats, he slammed the door shut in frustration.
Earlier, he had been mentally rehearsing all the ways he could kill this woman. Just thinking about that pale little face struggling in its death throes under his hands made him want to jump with excitement. Who would have thought a bucket of cold water would be dumped on his plans? It was a total buzzkill.