Confirming she was safe for the moment, Fu Erdie checked her dog for injuries. The dog had been kicked hard but had no external wounds. Feeling along its ribs, she didn’t detect any fractures, so it was probably fine. She quickly sprayed some trauma medicine on the dog, though she wasn’t sure if it would help.
After tending to the dog, she turned on her computer to access the surveillance footage from her door facing the hallway. Thanks to the perfectly adjusted angle, the camera had captured every detail of how the zombified old man had lunged at her with a twisted expression.
No matter how she reviewed the footage, the old man’s condition looked exactly like the zombies depicted in movies, TV shows, and novels.
Watching the entire process of her escape and counterattack, lasting less than half a minute, from a third-person perspective made Fu Erdie’s hands tremble uncontrollably.
If this was a zombie, was she still guilty of killing someone? Or could it be considered self-defense?
Fu Erdie saved the video to her computer, phone, and a USB drive. She also tried to upload it to the cloud, but the internet was too slow, and it wouldn’t upload.
She dialed 110. Regardless of the situation, she decided to turn herself in first and hope for leniency. But the call wouldn’t go through.
Her hands shaking violently, she kept trying. After a full twenty minutes, she finally managed to get through by chance.
“Hello, I—” she started.
The voice on the other end shouted, “An unknown virus is spreading! Everyone, stay inside your homes, close your doors and windows! Avoid being scratched or bitten by anyone acting strangely! Spread the word, bzzz… beep beep beep…”
The call dropped.
Obviously, the situation on their end was chaotic too, leaving them no choice but to answer calls rapidly and issue urgent warnings.
Fu Erdie thought that her case probably counted as a special circumstance requiring special handling, which eased her mind slightly. But soon, she noticed that her face and hands were splattered with blood and unidentified bodily fluids from the zombified old man.
She rushed into the bathroom and vomited violently, bringing up not just the dinner she had eaten but feeling as though her entire stomach was being expelled.
Fu Erdie had read many post-apocalyptic novels, natural disasters, zombies, man-made catastrophes, abilities, crystal cores, all the usual tropes of the genre.
She had thought more than once that if she ever found herself in an apocalypse, she would basically just be waiting to die. She couldn’t drive, couldn’t navigate, couldn’t tell what food was safe to eat, couldn’t cook. What she called “cooking” was just reheating takeout from the supermarket, adding the pre-packed seasonings, and eating it with rice.
Without delivery or supermarkets, she would be left eating egg-fried rice every day, or plain rice with pickled vegetables.
And on top of that, she got sick easily. Especially when the temperature suddenly dropped, she would inevitably catch a cold.
If the apocalypse came, she wouldn’t need zombies to kill her; she could manage to finish herself off just fine.
Before, this was just a thought. Now, it was about to become reality.
She didn’t have time to clean the blood off herself or by the doorway. Instead, she plugged in every device in the house that could be charged and filled buckets and pots with water. She pulled out unused bed sheets and duvet covers, tore them into strips, and tied them into a long rope, just in case she needed to risk climbing down from the sixteenth floor.
Thinking about all these things, she knew very well in her heart that this was just a weak student preparing their stationery, seeking peace of mind.
With her physical strength, it was impossible for her to lower herself bit by bit from the sixteenth floor to the ground.
She dragged the heavy dining table to the door, planning to block the entrance immediately once Zhao Xiaolu arrived.
The sofa, the TV stand, even the ceramic mop sink from the bathroom, she pulled them all over, waiting only for Zhao Xiaolu to show up.
After finishing all this, she took out a radio.
It was a decorative radio. She tuned it to different frequencies, but all the channels were still playing their pre-scheduled programs. There was no additional information.
She kept her phone on speaker, calling her relatives and friends one by one. But without exception, none of the calls went through. She had no choice but to quickly clean up the tissue and blood on the floor and then take her third shower of the day.
This time, she didn’t play music. She didn’t even close the bathroom door, so she could rush out the moment she heard Zhao Xiaolu knock.
But after she finished a quick shower in two minutes, then spent another half hour obsessively washing her face and hands, as if they were stained with something dirty that wouldn’t come off, Zhao Xiaolu still hadn’t arrived.
Fu Erdie stopped her neurotic behavior and walked to the window, where the noise outside and the waves of heat surged. She looked down at the frightened, screaming crowd below and the drizzling rain.
She thought: maybe Zhao Xiaolu would never come.
She continued making calls, but no matter who she tried, none of them went through.
The streets outside were still chaotic. Some people frantically searched for buildings to take shelter in, while others drove desperately to escape the city.
It was clear that even though the outbreak had been sudden, most people had at least some idea about zombies from movies and TV shows. In a situation like this, the farther you were from the city center, the more rural and remote the place, the safer it would be.
Fu Erdie didn’t have a car, and she didn’t know how to drive. If she recklessly went outside, she couldn’t even outrun the zombies; she would just be waiting to die.
She had no idea whether Zhao Xiaolu was still racing against the zombies or had found a place nearby to hide.
She plugged her phone in to charge, took out her backup phone, and turned the volume to maximum so she wouldn’t miss any calls. At the same time, she used her computer to search for information online.
But there was no internet connection, the page just kept loading, never finishing.
Frustrated, Fu Erdie pushed the keyboard aside, grabbed her phone, and returned to the balcony to check the situation outside.
It was drizzling, and the evening sky was growing dark. Living on the 16th floor, she couldn’t clearly see what was happening below. She had to use her phone’s zoom function to observe.
Raindrops drifted past the camera lens, and suddenly, a thought struck her, something she had once imagined while reading post-apocalyptic novels.
If she ever had the chance to choose between becoming a zombie or gaining supernatural abilities, she would definitely take the risk. Even if there was a 99% chance of turning into a zombie and only a 1% chance of gaining abilities, she would still go for it. Because that would be her only chance of survival.
Without powers, she would surely die.
In the novels, it was said that when the mutation first began, special particles would appear in the air, and different people would evolve in different directions.
She opened the balcony window fully, letting the drizzle cling to her cheeks and hair, waiting for fate to pass its judgment on her mutation.
Zombie or superhuman, let it come quickly.
She stroked the dog’s head as it nuzzled against her. A chaotic thought crossed her mind: zombies probably weren’t smart enough to unlock a door with a security chain, right? If she turned into a zombie at home, she’d probably just be stuck inside, unable to get out, she wouldn’t cause much harm to the outside world. But it would doom her dog. Maybe she should let the dog out now.
So she grabbed a drying pole, opened the door, and with slightly stiff movements, pushed the elderly zombie’s corpse aside. Pointing outside, she said, “Mozhi (Ink), you should run.”
Normally, Mozhi would be thrilled to go out and play. But now, it refused to move. Instead, it turned around and ran to the farthest corner of the balcony, the spot furthest from the door, and sat down, as if it knew that leaving now would mean leaving forever.