“What should we do? Jinhe didn’t make it out!” Zhang Yi turned to look at the impenetrable swarm of corpses behind the car, her heart pounding with unease.
“She’ll definitely find another way.” Even as he spoke, the worry on Cheng Yan’s face was just as heavy. “We can’t turn back. Let’s find a place to stay for the night first before making any plans.”
“About six kilometers ahead on Shahu Street… there’s a training center.”
Peng Zhixue’s voice was strained and labored; his body had already begun to show symptoms.
Cheng Yan retracted his gaze, floored the accelerator to lose the trailing zombies, and turned toward Shahu Street. Peng Zhixue could still hold on for a while, and until then, they couldn’t leave him alone.
Less than half an hour later, three vehicles drove onto the main road one after another. The lead SUV, seeing the sea of people ahead, slammed on the brakes and flicked on its turn signal to make a quick U-turn.
“What the hell are they doing? How are we supposed to get in with that many zombies?” The man driving the SUV frowned impatiently. “Both walkie-talkies are out of contact. That crazy woman with the license plate ending in 886… they actually got messed up that badly by her.”
“Find a place to take cover first. We’ll wait until tomorrow when the zombies inside disperse,” the man in the leather jacket beside him said calmly.
Song Jinhe, driving a car with a broken bumper and an unstable center of gravity, finally made it out.
The sky grew darker and darker. The car was failing, and she was at her limit.
She slumped over the steering wheel, mouth open as she took weak, shallow breaths. There wasn’t a single part of her body that wanted to move.
It would be dark soon. There were no suitable places to hide nearby, and zombies were everywhere. The bank she had passed earlier was safe, but she couldn’t get inside.
Looking at the gray buildings and the tattered zombies, Song Jinhe took a sip of water and forced herself to muster enough energy to drive the car into an old alleyway.
The area was surrounded by old houses from decades ago. Some even had broken windows, exposing peeling iron bars within. Looking from the courtyard, dark green leaves clung to the blackened exterior walls, and the windows looked like ancient, deep wells—eerie and dim.
Song Jinhe didn’t plan to get out and go inside the houses. They didn’t look secure, and she had no energy left to break down doors and clear out threats.
She hadn’t felt it as much before, but now that she was alone and had to spend the night outside, an indescribable sense of misery washed over her.
Song Jinhe took out iodine, hemostatic medicine, and gauze. Wrapping herself in a quilt, she began to clean the knife wound on her hand.
Darkness fell quickly. She couldn’t turn on the lights, so she could only manage a simple treatment. She didn’t know how to do stitches, and she certainly couldn’t do them in the dark. In the future, she would have to learn how to treat injuries from Cheng Yan.
Song Jinhe climbed into the back seat and took out two warm potatoes, eating while watching the zombies slowly pass by in front of the car.
The zombie fragments on the roof and the dark blood splattered across the body acted like a ghillie suit, allowing her to hide in the car without being noticed.
Her body was in such pain that she drifted off to sleep without realizing it. In the middle of the night, she was startled awake by a nightmare of a zombie crawling into the car.
Outside the window was a pitch-black darkness where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Rustling sounds came from unknown sources, and Song Jinhe pulled her quilt tighter to keep the heat from escaping.
Nights like this were too hard to endure. When she wasn’t sleeping, she spent every moment praying for dawn.
On the other side.
Cheng Yan’s group of three successfully entered the training center.
Peng Zhixue was isolated in an inner room. Cheng Yan stayed on guard all night until the next morning, but by then, Peng Zhixue was at his end.
His face was sallow, the blood he vomited had soaked the front of his clothes, and his eyes were gradually losing focus.
“You guys go… close the door tight,” Peng Zhixue said, looking toward Happiness Community, which was submerged in the murky floodwaters not far away.
The water had begun to recede, and this was the only way he could return home.
With tears in their eyes, Zhang Yi and Cheng Yan said their goodbyes. They exited the room, closed the door, and used a marker to write a warning on the door.
As they turned to walk toward the stairs, a faint, raspy hiss seemed to come from the room behind them.
“It’s just us now. We must stay alive and find Jinhe,” Zhang Yi said, her fingers tightening.
Cheng Yan nodded. “She circled the direction out of the city and a meeting point on the map earlier. Since we can’t go through the mall, we can head north first and then circle around. As long as the destination is the same, we’ll eventually meet.”
At that moment, on the main road outside the mall, the lead SUV followed the tracks and discovered the wreckage of two cars and a charred walkie-talkie.
The man who stepped out of the car suddenly looked grim. “Brother Wen, this…”
They thought Brother Scar’s team had just run into a bit of a tricky situation, but they never expected this scene.
The one on the ground with charred skin, half-eaten by zombies, and a hollowed-out head… was Brother Scar.
He was a Strength Talent, and he had been carrying a gun. How could he have ended up like this? Who exactly were they up against?
Sun Bingwen glanced at the zombie Chou Xiang walking toward them and pulled a combat knife from his waist to finish him off. His gaze shifted from the pickup to the business van, finally landing on several zombies with shattered heads on the ground.
“The opposition used Molotov cocktails, and their accomplice had a weapon that isn’t simple. They detonated that vehicle.”
As he spoke, he knelt to examine the wounds on Chou Xiang’s body. “This is strange. Only knife wounds.”
“Brother, what do we do now? We have no idea where those people ran off to,” a subordinate asked.
“Notify the boss first. The opposition has such good equipment; they’re a big fish,” Sun Bingwen sneered. “They probably haven’t gone far. They came from the mall; there might still be people alive nearby.”
By the time Song Jinhe woke up, it was already after eight in the morning.
After a night’s sleep, her physical condition had improved, though the knife wound on her right hand still throbbed painfully.
The two or three zombies wandering outside didn’t notice her. Song Jinhe used one hand to fold the quilt and put it into her space before pulling on a clean trench coat.
It was best not to wear yesterday’s blood-stained clothes and outdoor jacket—the target was too obvious. She had even discarded her license plate.
She had consumed many Molotov cocktails yesterday, and only a few were left in her space. While she still had raw materials, they wouldn’t last long if she wasn’t careful.
Song Jinhe gripped the steering wheel with one hand and checked the fuel level; driving out of the city shouldn’t be a problem. She wasn’t familiar with the roads in this area, and the map didn’t provide such fine detail.
She would just have to follow the road. Staying along the outskirts of the West District would reduce the chances of running into that gang.
Song Jinhe drove around for a long time. Her imagination was beautiful, but reality was cruel. Looking at the water marks left on the walls and the road ahead still submerged in water, she knew she had taken a wrong turn again.
Living a life exposed to the elements like this, the mental pressure of facing it alone was immense—especially since she hadn’t been able to leave the danger zone. Any little sound was enough to make her nerves snap.
Not long ago, she had passed a temporary relief point. Before she even got close, she saw that the outside of the tents was filled with wandering zombies—men, women, young, and old. If she hadn’t driven away quickly, she might not have made it out.
After two days and two nights, Song Jinhe finally reached the suburbs. Looking at the undulating mountains and low houses in the distance, she let out a deep sigh of relief.
She couldn’t put off changing the tire any longer. The wound on her hand had repeatedly reopened while fighting zombies to stay alive, and it hadn’t healed.
If this continued, she might actually lose the use of her hand. She desperately needed a safe place to recover.