The construction site gate was tightly shut. A few men from the lead vehicle got out, peered through the crack into the yard for a moment, then turned and nodded to us, indicating it was safe inside. Together, they pushed the gate open. It wasn't locked, just slightly ajar.
Our vehicles filed into the construction site yard. We didn't see the expected blood and gore covering the ground. One has to remember, construction sites are places where migrant workers gather in large numbers. With such widespread infection, the site must have been pure chaos! Yet now, there wasn't a single zombie in the yard. It was somewhat unexpected! Could it be that the site was closed and everyone was on holiday when the incident happened?
Regardless of how dirty or tragic the ground might have been, the snow covered everything. Now, all we saw was a pure white expanse.
The snow-covered steel reinforcement bars were piled near the site's perimeter wall. We found them quickly.
Transportation was a problem. The rebars were extremely heavy; even an off-road vehicle couldn't carry many. Plus, they were very long, and we couldn't cut them on the site. Making a lot of noise here would definitely attract zombies from the surrounding streets. The safest way was to take them back to the compound and work on them slowly.
We had no choice; we needed to find a truck specifically for transporting rebars!
Heaven helped us! A transport truck was parked right there on the site. To our greater delight, it was still half-loaded with cargo: rebars! This saved us a lot of effort loading them!
Without hesitation, we went to check the cab. Sigh, knew it wouldn't be that smooth. A zombie was in the driver's seat, clawing at the window towards us! It had to be the truck driver. Bitten by another worker, he fled back to the cab, turned inside, and then, with his intelligence reduced, couldn't figure out how to open the door to get out!
Opening the door was no difficulty for me now. I pried it open, quickly jumped from the step to the ground beside me. The unfortunate driver zombie tumbled headfirst out of the high cab. It hit the ground, struggling and writhing, trying to get up. How could I give it the chance? I rushed over, stepped on its shoulder, reversed my grip on the knife handle, aimed the tip at its eye socket, and thrust it in with a sickening crunch.
A young man followed me, holding a kitchen knife. He said, "Sis, I can drive this big truck! I used to drive long-haul for a logistics company!"
Real talent! I asked, "What's your name?"
He said, "Tiger!"
I went to the other side, opened the door, and got into the passenger seat. Tiger got into the driver's seat, checked the key first. Great! It was in the ignition! Tiger turned the key, started the engine, and cheered, "Plenty of gas!"
Perfect!
Since this truck already had half a load of rebars, enough for our use, I called everyone to head back home.
So everyone got into their vehicles, ready to return victorious!
They say if you often walk by the river, your shoes will eventually get wet. Entering the site yard, we only saw the clean yard. We didn't check inside the half-built buildings, thinking only of a quick operation, convinced the site had no zombies because it was closed on the day of the incident.
Even after seeing the driver zombie in this transport truck, we didn't think: if rebars were still being delivered, how could the entire site have only this one driver working?
So just as we were about to leave, we heard a series of howls from the dark buildings. My heart sank. Looking back, a large horde of migrant worker zombies surged out from the depths of the concrete structure!
Oh my god! This was really bad! The zombie group was enormous! A cold sweat broke out on my back! Panic set in.
We all had walkie-talkies. I urgently shouted into mine, "Cover our truck's exit first!"
This wasn't a selfish decision born of fear. It was absolutely not like that infamous line, "Let the leaders leave first!" which I despise!
Because this transport truck was large and clumsy. Although it wasn't afraid of zombies and could crush them to pulp, if a large number piled up in front, it would be hard to escape. A large ship is hard to steer; a large truck is hard to extract!
Moreover, this big truck was crucial. It carried rebars representing the safety of everyone in our compound.
It's not the pig-like opponent you fear, but the god-like teammate!
Without needing lengthy explanation, the other vehicles decisively intercepted the zombie army, allowing our transport truck to quickly turn around and drive out of the construction site.
I clung to the window, anxiously looking back. Suddenly, my heart jumped!
They needed to escape quickly. They must not get out and fight! Because these zombies were all wearing hard hats! Of course! How could you work on a site without a hard hat? It's the rule! You're not even allowed on site without one!
If you can't damage a zombie's brain, you can't truly destroy them! This group of zombies were the true undead! Our situation was extremely dangerous!
Canaan and our unit mates were experienced. No one got out of their vehicles. Seeing us leave, they quickly started their engines and fled, not lingering to fight. I'm sure they saw the hard hats too!
But misfortune still struck! A poorly modified off-road vehicle driven by several newly joined young men got surrounded by zombies! The starving, frenzied zombies swarmed towards the car like a disturbed hornet's nest.
We watched helplessly as the car door was smashed open by the zombies. They were pulled out one by one. They struggled desperately, but their knives couldn't pierce the hard hats. The agony of being bitten and torn made them instantly lose all fighting ability. Apart from distorted screams, they had no capacity to resist.
The agonized howls of the several men pierced our eardrums like sharp needles. The horrific scene of them being torn apart and devoured shook me to the core. I saw the following cars slow down simultaneously; I knew what they wanted to do. No! If we didn't want a total wipeout, we had to abandon these companions. Hardening my heart, I shouted into the walkie-talkie, "They're bitten! No one goes back! It's too late! Retreat now!"
Amid the chasing tide of zombies, our vehicles roared out of the construction site, fleeing for our lives, leaving that horde of demons far behind.
Tears in my eyes, I gripped my knife handle tightly. Those boys were enthusiastic and brave, members of the Action Group, and they had joined voluntarily!
One boy, Yu Xiaobo, left the deepest impression. He was a gaming fanatic, a standard otaku. After the outbreak, he finally left his room and actively joined our group. Before this mission, he said excitedly, "Sister Duo, I can break out of the game and really fight monsters now!"
I didn't know the others well. I just knew they were so young, full of vitality, like the sun just rising. Yet, they were instantly killed!
How could my heart accept this? Though I knew deeply, in this apocalypse, such things were all too common.
I hope Yu Xiaobo, at the last moment, truly killed a monster!
Xiaobo, I will kill more monsters for you! Rest in peace! I silently vowed to the young face I'd never see again, large tears falling, blurring my vision.
Tiger drove in silence, not speaking a word the whole way.
Back at the compound, everyone quickly noticed the missing members. Apart from Yu Xiaobo who lived alone, the others had families. Their relatives, hearing the tragic news, cried until they fainted...
When the families woke, they grabbed those who had gone with us, demanding to know how they died, why we didn't save them.
Facing the grief-stricken eyes of these parents and wives, we were speechless. Truthfully, even if we'd been more careful, entered the dark buildings to investigate, we'd have encountered the zombie horde. Perhaps none of us on foot would have escaped.
The real reason for their deaths was their own slow reaction. When other cars sped off, they were still turning. Clearly, the driver panicked, his skills poor, allowing the normally slow zombies to surround them.
But how could we tell them the truth? Wouldn't that be shirking responsibility, rubbing salt in the wounds?
We dared not say we watched them get bitten and torn apart. Because rescue was futile, we coldly abandoned them. This was justified, but you can't say it! No parent could accept that!
We could only say, tears in our eyes, to the weeping elders and wives, "We didn't take good care of them. Blame us. If you're too sad, hit us, scold us, do anything!"
But no one did. Their expressions grew more despairing. Finally, they just held us, their cries of anguish the only sound left.
Experiencing this for the first time, my heart felt heavy and aching. If it had been me or Canaan among the dead, my family would be shattered now.
Thinking this, I told myself firmly: my life is not my own; it belongs to my family. For my parents and son, I must protect myself at all costs. Only by living can I protect my loved ones and prevent them from despair and pain!
That night, an elderly couple who lost their son, unable to bear the grief, committed suicide by poisoning at home.
They swallowed all the common medicine they had. When found the next day, their floor was covered in bottles and boxes. The two lay side by side in bed, under a quilt, but their death wasn't peaceful. Their frozen expressions were agonized, with vomit by the pillows, a miserable sight!
But they must have felt it was total liberation.
This shocked all survivors. We quickly gathered the other bereaved families. Several women devotedly accompanied them, even at night, to prevent them from doing something drastic in their despair.
I understood that elderly couple. Truly, if anything happened to Shuai Shuai, I couldn't go on living for a single day! This feeling of being a parent, I understand it all too well, I truly do.