At the supermarket entrance, the smoke had thinned. The sprinklers kept spraying, and through the mist I could still see the charred remains of the zombie—burned down to a human-shaped husk.
Perhaps because that fire was no ordinary flame, the body burned quickly. Even drenched in water, it was scorched black. The spray washed away the ashes like carbon dust.
I stood at a distance, avoiding the foul runoff, watching for a long time. Just as I was about to leave, something glittering in the blackened mass caught my eye.
It was near the head. A head ornament? Something that could still shine after such fire? Even diamonds wouldn't survive like that.
I wrapped plastic bags around my shoes—call me squeamish, but the thought of stepping on human remains made me sick. If I could stay clean, I would.
Using a bottle, I scraped the object free, rinsed it in the water, and picked it up. I couldn't identify the material. It looked like a crystal, faintly blue, slightly cloudy, no larger than a corn kernel. Its surface gleamed with a metallic coldness. I wrapped it in paper and slipped it into my pocket.
Back in the car, sitting in the driver's seat, I didn't know what to do. Wait until nightfall before heading home? Sitting idle felt pointless. Sleep?
Had I slept eight hours last night? I calculated silently. No. I had woken early. So I leaned back, closed my eyes, half-dozing.
Daytime sleep was never as deep as night. I drifted in and out, unsure if I was truly asleep. Until voices approached.
"Quickly! It's noon. Most zombies won't appear under the sun. Even if they do, they'll be slower. Let's gather more supplies."
"Wang Yue, don't be so nervous. We've got three ability-users now. Seventeen or eighteen zombies won't be a problem."
"Exactly. We're the strongest team in this city. Taking down more zombies is service to the people!" He laughed loudly, arrogantly.
Their noise woke me. But I kept my eyes shut, unmoving, hoping they'd ignore me—or mistake my pale face for a corpse. The car was parked in shadow. From outside, they shouldn't see clearly.
Even if they did, what could I do? Open the door and greet them?
"There's someone in this car."
They came closer. One peered in. "Looks dead. No breathing."
Another tugged at the driver's door. Locked. "Face is bloodless. Definitely dead."
"Maybe scared to death?"
"Shunzi, don't say that. Show some respect."
"Respect? At a time like this? Dead is dead. Just meat. If it doesn't rot, it's zombie food." His tone was mocking, especially the way he called the other "Brother Yu." It grated.
Brother Yu fell silent. Not convinced, but threatening. No one circled the car further. Relief washed over me. They hadn't noticed the supplies inside. If they had, or tried to break in, I'd have no choice but to drive off—panic or not.
"Lang, it's nothing. The dead don't block our way. Let's move. Being near her gives me chills."
Someone smoothed things over. Lang snorted, walked off first. The others followed. Brother Yu lingered, staring. My heart raced. But he did nothing, finally leaving.
I listened longer. Lang cursed ahead: "That bastard used to act like a boss because of family money. Still thinks he's in charge? I'm an ability-user now too. No worse than him. I'll deal with him sooner or later!"
The peacemaker laughed nervously, urging calm, talking of brotherhood. Brother Yu stayed silent.
Only when their voices faded did I open my eyes. I started the car, slow and clumsy. Twice the engine stalled on turns. But I managed.
I reached a small hospital, parked in a hidden corner. Again, I played dead. I had to guard the supplies. No place else to go. Inside, I sensed dozens of them. They wouldn't attack me. My shield against other humans.
It was just past noon. How to pass the time? Maybe the pharmacy? I knew where it was—right turn from the entrance. Go, or not? I always hesitated over small things.
Inside, medicine littered the floor, glass shards everywhere. I picked up some OTC drugs, ointments, and children's medicine. Bagged them separately.
Leaving, I heard a roar. The same guttural sound as the burning zombie at the supermarket. A beast's growl before attack. I froze, turned sharply. Nothing. Just walls and doors. But the sound rattled me, like the first time I saw them.
Curiosity tugged at me. But curiosity kills. I wasn't built for risk. Survival meant hiding.
I thought of driving away. But sensed people nearby. I stayed still. They passed quickly, not noticing the car—or me inside.
Yet I felt it. The one who roared. Restless. Circling. Growl deepening, ready to strike.
He was threatening me. To him, the passersby were food. And I—an obstacle. A tiger blocking his path. Not a stone to step over. A tiger to fear.
When they left, the growl subsided. I hadn't moved. He sensed no hostility. Balance restored. I wanted to leave. He feared me. I feared him.
Just as I prepared to start the car, I sensed more humans. Approaching fast. Again, I froze. Bad luck. And inside, the restless one stirred again.
Disaster upon disaster.
Closer. My heart sank. Familiar voices. The same group as before. And behind them—zombies. Ten, maybe more.
Blood stained some of them. Whose blood? Hard to tell.
"Check ahead for cars we can use!" one shouted toward the hospital.
I wanted to scream at them. This was a hospital. Full of people once. Full of zombies now. Did they want a two-front battle? The fool shouting was Lang.
Not "no worse than others." Worse. No brains at all.
"Not the hospital. Too dangerous. That way!" Brother Yu pointed toward the outskirts. Smarter. Fewer zombies. Maybe houses. Safer.
His authority held. Most turned back. But Lang didn't. He yanked at car doors, desperate. Another man clung to him, whining: "What do we do, Lang? They're catching up!"
I watched coldly as they edged closer to me. Whispered: "Too late."
Lang, irritated, kicked his companion. Just as he cursed, a claw flashed in his peripheral vision.