“Our whole family, none of us turned into zombies when so many others did. Maybe we’re the lucky ones, just a little bit favored.”
“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
“We will see each other again.”
Cao Bingqing’s voice broke again as she spoke.
She knew it was nearly impossible.
Fu Erdie knew it was impossible too.
Her voice was strained. “Mom, Dad, you take care of yourselves too.”
The three of them talked for a long time.
They kept their phones on speaker, chatting while continuously organizing the information online, downloading and printing as much as they could.
Finally, the connection ended.
The call had lasted 53 minutes. It felt so long, yet passed in the blink of an eye.
Fu Erdie was heartbroken. She reluctantly closed her phone.
She plugged the flip phone back in to charge. The maps she had downloaded on her tablet still stored the route to City H, as well as the paths to the two nearest shelter bases.
Fu Erdie studied the base routes for a while, then gave up.
For a base to be established, three things were essential: arable land, a water source, and the ability to generate power.
City C was surrounded by mountains and rivers, so water wasn’t a concern. But it lacked large, flat areas of farmland. And with its year-round overcast skies and frequent fog, sunny days were rare. Solar panels weren’t a viable option. The city relied mainly on thermal and hydroelectric power, which were highly vulnerable to disruptions. All things considered, it was far from an ideal location for a base.
The two nearest bases were 300 kilometers away and 500 kilometers away. Under normal circumstances, you might drive there in half a day. But her grandmother’s group had been trying to reach the countryside for twenty days and still hadn’t made it. Fu Erdie didn’t believe she could cover that much distance on foot.
Unless she awakened supernatural abilities.
But during today’s brief communication, no one had mentioned anything about abilities. She didn’t know if they simply didn’t exist, or if those who had them were still too weak to notice anything unusual about themselves.
Fu Erdie turned her gaze toward the balcony.
The plants were still thriving, their leaves stretching out to meet the breeze from the air conditioner, utterly at ease.
“If only I could be like you,” she murmured.
She walked over, touched the pothos leaves, then the plump, lovely succulents, and sat down beside them, hugging her knees.
“Hey!” a voice shouted from below the balcony. “Apartment 16-1! Turn off your air conditioner! The noise from the outdoor unit is attracting zombies!”
Fu Erdie cracked the window open a sliver. The stench that rushed in nearly made her retreat.
She covered her nose and mouth and looked down.
It seemed to be the resident from 14-1 calling out.
He was a sturdy middle-aged man with graying hair, his face full of hostility.
When he saw it was just a young woman, his anger flared even more. “Don’t you know any better? Turn off that air conditioner! If you don’t, I’ll come up there and knock on your door right now!”
Fu Erdie pulled her head back in, shut the window, quickly turned the air conditioner down to 16 degrees, let it blast cold air for half a minute, and then turned it off.
To be fair, there were all sorts of noises outside. The outdoor units faced the street, and there were constant sounds of speeding cars, survivors moaning, and the cries of the injured. The hum of an air conditioner was nothing in comparison.
Still, after so many days, the zombie horde had likely been making its way up floor by floor, getting closer to the 16th floor. People on the 14th floor were probably already surrounded by zombies, and the slightest disturbance would set them on edge.
Fu Erdie understood completely.
She savored the last burst of cold air, hoping it would last a little longer in the 42-degree heat.
As she stood there staring at the air conditioner, she heard a scratching sound coming from the outer wall of the balcony.
She had barely rushed over when she came face to face with a familiar, graying old face.
It was the resident from 14-1!
Her eyes widened. Through the window, she asked, “How did you get up here?”
Then, as she watched the man pull his hand up along the exterior wall, she understood.
He was a ability user!
His fingernails were exceptionally sharp and tough, able to dig into the crevices of the wall.
He had climbed up using nothing but his ten fingers.
Seeing that Fu Erdie was alone inside, her home peaceful and quiet, he gave a sinister smile and tapped on the window. “Little sister, must be scary staying home all by yourself, right? Let me in, and I can protect you.”
Fu Erdie instinctively stepped back.
The man looked messy, covered in bloodstains, with scratches and bite marks visible on his forearms, clearly inflicted by zombies.
She wasn’t even sure if he really was the resident from 14-1. He could very well be an outsider who had broken into an empty apartment, or, like now, was forcing his way in by intimidating the rightful occupant!
He was still outside the window on the 16th floor, beckoning her with a wave. But his nails accidentally scraped against the glass. As his fingers dragged down, five sharp scratches were left etched into the window, jagged and terrifying.
Fu Erdie clenched her fists.
It was obvious: he was deliberately looking for trouble, trying to get her to show herself. Once he confirmed she was just a frail young woman alone at home, he climbed up and resorted to violent intimidation.
She knew that if she refused, he would just punch through the glass and break in.
But someone like this, calculating and violent before even stepping inside, what would he do once he got in? Besides stealing her food and speeding up her death, what else?
He could also assault her, humiliate her, butcher her dog for meat.
This man could not come in.
Although Fu Erdie appeared gentle, she made her decision in an instant.
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Mozhi stood his ground, barking furiously at the old man outside the balcony.
Fu Erdie quickly crouched down, scooping the dog into her arms to calm her.
Just as the man was about to strike the glass again, Fu Erdie hurriedly said, “I’ll let you in!”
She dashed into the bedroom next to the balcony, shoved the dog inside, and closed the door behind her. Only then did she return to the balcony.
The old man watched her movements with a smile, acting as if he were just a friendly neighbor seeking help.
Fu Erdie walked toward the window.
Her heart was pounding, her face pale, she looked like she might collapse from fear at any moment.
But she still slowly unlatched the lock and slid the window open.
The old man smiled with satisfaction and set one foot on the windowsill.
In that instant, Fu Erdie, who had been cowering like a rabbit, suddenly lunged forward and shoved him hard!
The moment seemed to stretch. The burly man lost his balance and toppled backward, suspended high above the 16th floor.
A flicker of disbelief crossed the old man’s face, but then his eyes met Fu Erdie’s: terrified, yet resolute.
In the next instant, with the reflexes and speed of a ability user far beyond an ordinary person’s, he whipped around and grabbed hold of Fu Erdie’s arm.
His mutated fingernails didn’t retract. Like iron claws, they pierced straight into her flesh and bone.
The tips of his nails gouged into her bones. For a moment, it even sounded like steel scraping against stone.
Fu Erdie’s body slammed against the railing. Her shoulder blade tore and dislocated. Her entire right arm dangled outside the window, mangled and bloody. Blood streamed down her arm onto the man below, then dripped all the way from the high-rise down to the ground.
Drip. Drip.
A car sped past, splashing through the bloodstain, merging it with all the other bloodshed that had appeared since the apocalypse began.
The old man’s face was smeared with blood. Far from being repulsed, he licked it and grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth.
The next second, he braced his feet against the wall. Without needing Fu Erdie to pull him up, he used her own flesh and blood as a grip to climb back up.
Through the searing pain, Fu Erdie noticed that the man was barefoot.
His feet were like his hands, armed with sharp, elongated nails that could easily dig into the wall.
Gritting her teeth against the agony, Fu Erdie grabbed a wooden board with her left hand and swung it down at the man’s head.
Crack!
The board split in two. Splinters scratched the man’s face but didn’t stop him from climbing onto the windowsill.
Fu Erdie tried to reach for the hammer. But it was in the corner by the flower bed, too far to grab.
The old man, covered in blood, steadied himself on the windowsill, then swung a leg in and stepped inside.