After half a minute of tense silence, Chen Ming finally waved his hand and said, "Forget it. Doesn't matter now—just stay sharp and follow me in quietly."
The gate to the underground parking lot stood ajar. Two cars had collided at the entrance, wedging themselves into place and partially blocking the path inward. They were old models, metal frames slightly rusted, their once-polished coats now dulled by time and blood.
As we squeezed past the narrow space between them, a grotesque surprise awaited—inside one of the cars, a child-sized walking corpse was still strapped into its seatbelt. It snarled and thrashed, eyes white with rot, like it was commanding the very air with its cries.
Thanks to the awkwardly angled cars shielding the interior, we had expected chaos, but the lot was eerily silent. No groaning hordes. No sounds of shuffling. The complete lack of movement made our nerves tighter, not looser.
Stinky pressed close behind me, voice trembling. "Big bro... this place feels... off. It's cold. There's too much yin-qi here. It's creepy…"
His whisper echoed faintly across the cavernous space, bouncing between concrete pillars.
Chen Ming ignored him, already scanning the lot. His sharp eyes locked onto a white Ford Maverick tucked near a support beam. He gestured and strode toward it. Sun Miao and Xu Yiwen followed quickly. I paused, then nudged Xiao Yu. "Let's sweep this row. Watch your footing."
In this new world, luxury cars were everywhere—BMWs, Benzes, gleaming corpses of wealth—but they were useless to us. What we needed were big, durable vehicles.
Despite its size, the parking lot wasn't packed. Sparse cars rested like corpses in a tomb. Every step echoed. Aside from the soft rattle of Chen Ming's tools as he rifled through the Maverick, the silence was oppressive. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
We checked row by row, heart pounding, but found little besides dried blood and a few unspeakable smears. The real terror was the anticipation.
Back by the Maverick, the sound of a click snapped my attention. I turned to see the vehicle roar to life despite not having the keys.
The wires under the steering wheel had been stripped and spliced with clinical ease.
I stared. Then gave Chen Ming a thumbs-up. "No offense, but you sure you're just a cop?"
He grunted noncommittally. Between his cold efficiency and street-honed skills, it was becoming harder to believe his backstory didn't include some criminal detours.
We split into two groups. Xu Yiwen drove with Stinky and me. Chen Ming took Xiao Yu and Sun Miao. Getting out required some work—we had to roll the obstructing car away, drive ours out, then wedge the discarded one back to block the entrance again. At least that way, no random corpses would wander in behind us later.
We didn't return to the ward. We drove straight out of the hospital compound, through the main gates. But even that simple act—starting the engine, opening the doors—was enough to draw attention. Nearby walking corpses began stumbling toward the sound.
Fortunately, the number was manageable. Not enough to breach the compound behind us.
Chen Ming led the way, winding through side streets and alleys I barely recognized. In two months, this was the first time I had truly left the hospital. The last time I'd walked this route, I was a student getting a call from Mom—my younger brother had been injured. I took a cab and rushed to the hospital, never thinking it'd be the start of the end.
Now, the streets I'd known were shadows. Gone were the crowds, the chatter, the honking cars. Storefronts stood open and broken. Trash and blood smeared the sidewalks. The smell was worse.
I'd trained myself to ignore the horror. To see but not feel. That was how you survived.
The moment we turned a tight corner, RT-Mart loomed into view. The massive supermarket was familiar. Behind it lay the wholesale food street. At the far end, a pedestrian zone.
Chen Ming knew the alley system too well—it was impressive, bordering on suspicious.
The car ahead slowed down. Inside, they were likely checking for danger.
In front of the supermarket was a wide plaza. It used to be a dance square for old women, blasting tacky pop songs in the evening. I could almost hear Little Apple echoing in memory.
Xu Yiwen frowned at the building. "Wait, didn't you say we were going to the wholesale food market? Why are we stopping here?"
I pointed past the building. "It's just behind that."
Ahead, Chen Ming and Sun Miao had already stopped and exited. From the alley's mouth, we watched them slice down two wandering corpses that got too close.
We pulled over and parked just short of the alley's mouth. The road ahead was exposed, but the number of walking corpses nearby was small—no more than a dozen—and scattered. Their slow gait didn't frighten me anymore. If anything, it reminded me: when you stare down fear, it loses its fangs.
Xiao Yu eyed the mall's looming facade. "I still say going through here is faster than detouring through back alleys."
Chen Ming gave a curt nod. "Stay sharp. We go in here. Stick close."
His casual tone masked the risk. But the moment a petite, zombie-like girl lunged out of the shadow, Chen Ming reacted first—his blade flashing, severing her skull mid-air.
That was our signal. We rushed forward. I glanced over my shoulder and yelled, "Once we're in, head straight! The carts are at the front. Grab one. Load whatever's edible or useful. If the dead show up—we ram them!"
Inside the mall's shattered glass doors, a stench hit us like a wave. We froze. A dozen walking corpses loitered in the aisle, gathered around something.
Our shouts had drawn attention. Their heads turned in sync.
One had a limp, glistening strand of intestine in its hand.
I gagged. Chen Ming didn't wait. His long knife was already out, and he charged, carving a path straight down the center.
The advantage of a long blade: distance. You didn't need to get too close, and you avoided the backsplash of black brain matter.
But wielding it well? That took skill. A long sword could just as easily slow you down if you didn't know what you were doing.
The rest of us split and flanked. Stragglers who hadn't noticed us yet were quickly dispatched. Some corpses were so fixated on whatever was on the floor, they didn't react until the steel bit into their skulls.
When the last one slumped down, I stepped over and looked at what had drawn their attention.
A human corpse, slumped against the wall.
Half of him was gone—legs torn to shreds. But the upper body was strangely intact. Clean. Except for the spine and back, which were deeply clawed.
He had likely died just minutes before we arrived.
I frowned. "He came here alone?"
Chen Ming knelt by the body. Without hesitation, he unsheathed a dagger and stabbed the corpse's left arm.
Sun Miao leaned in and whispered, "His arm's broken!"
"What?" I blinked. "How's that possible?"
Chen Ming didn't answer. He inspected the wound, noted the swelling, then—expression grim—slashed the corpse's head in one clean motion.
"Fresh break. Swollen. Not done by a corpse," he muttered as we moved forward.
Sun Miao whispered, "So... someone else broke his arm?"
Xiao Yu leaned close to me. "Wait... you think there are people still out here? Who'd fight someone now of all times?"
No one answered. Silence trailed us like a shadow.
We reached the mall's entrance. Just before we split up, Chen Ming said flatly, "We don't start fights. But we finish them. Grab what we need. Don't linger."
His voice echoed slightly. It felt... deliberate. Like a warning.
We each took a cart. Chen Ming and Sun Miao remained on guard, watching the aisles.
Then the spree began.
We swept through the mall like a crew of pirates on a raid—carts clattering, hands grabbing anything that could be eaten, burned, or bartered.
With Chen Ming and Sun Miao watching our flanks and few corpses inside, we moved quickly.
One cart. Then two. Soon seven or eight were brimming—canned goods, water, rice, batteries.
We were good at this now.
Too good.
And that—deep down—was what scared me most.