Chapter 126
Chapter 126
“In position.”
The woman’s voice came over the radio again, and everyone straightened.
The road gradually widened.
They had left the narrow, rugged dirt roads of the mountains behind. Though the pavement here was just as cracked and broken, with weeds stubbornly pushing through the gaps, at least it was no longer as steep.
Qingshui looked ahead.
At the end of the road stood a rust-covered arched iron gate.
It was tall enough for trucks to pass through. The paint had long since peeled away, leaving broad patches of reddish-brown rust. Several crooked iron characters had been welded onto it, but the words were still legible:
“Fanrong County Central Grain Depot”
The concrete pillars on either side were covered in absurd pictures drawn in blood.
Smiling faces and little people.
Some wore crooked, sinister grins, while others laughed with wild abandon.
They held hands and danced in circles. There were other shapes that were impossible to identify, nothing more than scarlet smears against the gray-white concrete, gruesome to behold.
The black van was already parked by the entrance, and Li Chong’s team had begun standing watch.
Their vehicle rolled smoothly through the depot gates.
Qingshui, Chu Jingchu, and Xu Wenlie each covered one of the three windows, their eyes locked on every inch of darkness outside.
The yard was enormous, far larger than they had expected. Cracks ran through the concrete ground, choked with wild grass. In some places, there were large pools of dried black blood.
Several red-brick warehouses were faintly visible in the darkness ahead.
The vehicle slowly approached the nearest one.
Its door stood half open, revealing nothing but pitch-black darkness. In the open space outside, white woven sacks had been piled up. Some were stacked neatly, while others had collapsed, spilling their contents all over the ground.
It was flour, but the white powder was stained with large patches of dried black blood. The sight was horrifying.
The vehicle stopped. No one moved. Everyone waited until Xu Wenlie finally raised her hand and signaled for them to disembark.
Qingshui gently opened the door and stepped out first.
Her feet touched the concrete without a sound. She immediately dropped into a crouch, aimed her gun forward, and swept her gaze over every corner that might conceal danger.
Chu Jingchu got out on the other side and crouched as well.
Xu Wenlie took point.
Gun raised, she approached the half-open warehouse door one step at a time.
Her heart pounded. She was afraid. The Madmen lurking somewhere out of sight, along with the possibility of ambushes and traps, were like countless fine needles pricking at her nerves, leaving every muscle in her body taut.
But there was nothing she could do except pray.
She stopped, bent down, and picked up a pebble. With a light toss, she sent it into the warehouse.
The sound came through the doorway as the pebble hit the floor. Tap. Tap. Tap. It rolled several times before coming to a stop.
Dead silence. No response whatsoever.
Xu Wenlie took a deep breath, her expression hardening, then stepped into the warehouse first. Qingshui followed close behind.
The moment they crossed the threshold, a vast, dark space opened before them. Behind them, Wen Lianfeng switched on a flashlight. Its beam sliced through the darkness, illuminating a small area ahead.
The smell of mold and dust washed over them.
Emptiness. Nothing but emptiness.
It was a typical single-story grain warehouse, dozens of meters deep and over ten meters high. The sheer openness of the space was terrifying.
In the center, sacks of grain had been stacked neatly into small mountains, the stacks rising several people high.
Xu Wenlie’s eyes lit up. If they could bring all of this back, it would feed them for half a year with ease.
She was just about to approach when-
Squeak! Squeak!
A strange noise suddenly broke the silence.
Several rats darted out from behind the grain sacks. Startled by the flashlight, they fled in panic, racing along the base of the wall before vanishing into the darkness.
A false alarm.
Qingshui stepped forward, drew the knife at her waist, and gently slit open one of the woven sacks. She reached inside and pulled out a handful of rice. The grains were plump and normal in color, with no mold or clumping.
She then walked over to a row of sacks against the wall and cut a small opening in one of them as well.
A harsh, choking stench of mold burst out. The rice in this sack had absorbed too much moisture. The grains had congealed into a solid mass and crumbled into powder at the slightest pressure from her fingers.
Xu Wenlie quickly inspected several sacks of flour, and her expression darkened. Most of those near the floor or in the corners had spoiled and were beyond saving.
“These rows are fine. We can load them,” she said, pointing to the sacks in the dry area at the center of the warehouse. “Anything near the walls or floor is ruined. Don’t touch it.”
No one wasted time talking. They immediately got to work.
Qingshui hoisted a sack of rice onto her shoulder and turned toward the van outside. The sack was heavy enough to make her shoulder dip, but she never broke stride. Wen Lianfeng and Chu Jingchu also shouldered sacks of grain, hurrying back and forth between the warehouse and the vehicle.
Bag after bag.
They carried them to the back of the van, stacked them up, then went back for more.
The middle-aged woman behind the wheel never got out. She remained in the driver’s seat, scanning their surroundings with wary eyes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stood ready to start the engine at any moment.
In the silent night, the only sounds were footsteps and the muffled thuds of grain sacks hitting the ground.
Suddenly, the radio clipped to Xu Wenlie’s chest crackled to life.
Everyone froze at once.
Xu Wenlie glanced down and pressed the talk button. A voice came through, barely above a whisper.
“Light Rain Outside.”
It was a code phrase. There were Madmen outside, but the situation was under control.
Xu Wenlie replied, “1.”
Message received. Continue.
She raised her head and looked at the others, her voice urgent.
“Hurry.”
Everyone picked up the pace.
Before long, they had emptied the warehouse of all the grain that was still in good condition. The space where the van’s rear seats had been removed was packed to the brim, with bags of rice crammed into every last gap.
They exchanged glances, then all turned toward another warehouse nearby. Just as they were about to move, the air began to tremble.
It wasn’t the tremor of an earthquake. The vibration came from above, as though something enormous were slowly bearing down on them from the horizon.
Thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump.
The sound grew louder and closer!
Chu Jingchu’s expression changed instantly. “Wh-what’s going on?! What’s that noise?!”
Qingshui’s expression changed as well.
That was… the sound of a helicopter!
“It’s a helicopter!” she hissed, her scalp prickling. “Hide! Hurry, hide!”
Was it what remained of the military, or… Madmen like the ones they had encountered on the road?
No one knew the answer.
But right now, no matter who was aboard, they couldn’t let themselves be discovered.
Everyone paled and immediately spun around, sprinting back into the grain warehouse behind them. The middle-aged woman serving as their lookout and driver received Xu Wenlie’s warning as well. She raced inside and quickly pulled the warehouse doors shut.
The group huddled deep inside the warehouse, holding their breath.
Outside, the heavy thumping grew closer and louder until it became the deafening roar of rotor blades tearing through the air. The thunderous noise pressed down directly overhead, making the warehouse’s sheet-metal roof tremble.
Then a stark white beam shone through the gap between the doors!
The light was dazzlingly bright. It streamed through the windows and slowly swept across the warehouse.
Everyone’s faces turned deathly pale. Whatever hope they had harbored gradually vanished beneath that beam. They didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare breathe. Didn’t dare make a sound.
Qingshui finally got a clear look at the helicopter.
Its entire exterior was smeared with blood. No one knew how it had gotten there, but every inch of the aircraft was coated in it. Several human heads hung from its fuselage.
They had been strung together with rope and tied to the landing gear and the handles of the cabin doors. The heads streamed backward in the wind, swinging from side to side.
No one could possibly mistake that for the military.
A bone-deep chill shot from the soles of their feet to the tops of their heads.
These Madmen… They were flying a helicopter, searching for people from the sky!
They were hunting for survivors from above!
No one dared speak. Even though they were hidden inside, even though the beam had already moved away, they still felt as though there was nowhere to hide.
Every heart pounded like a drum.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It sounded so loud that they almost believed those outside would hear it.
The military.
Had even the military fallen?
Those who had once protected this land, those who had once formed its strongest line of defense, were now also…
Xu Wenlie’s pupils contracted to pinpoints.
The knife scar across her face looked almost terrifying in the darkness. She raised the radio. Her lips were trembling, and so was her voice.
“The Sky Is Broken…”
“Take cover!”
Silence answered her over the radio. There was only the hiss of static.
Xu Wenlie repeated herself, her voice more urgent and unsteady, but she was met with the same deathly silence.
The seconds dragged by. No one knew how much time had passed before the helicopter’s roar gradually receded, finally disappearing into the night sky.
Still, no one dared move.
No one dared make a sound.
Xu Wenlie clutched the radio, the veins at her temples throbbing violently. She stared at the small black device, fighting the urge to vomit.
Then came a burst of static.
The radio answered.
Twice.
“1.”
“1.”
The Director. Li Chong.
They had both responded.
All the strength seemed to drain out of Xu Wenlie. She slumped against the wall, gasping for breath.