Chapter 64

Chapter 64

The daylight hours crawled by in suffocating silence as they took turns keeping watch.

The four barely spoke. They focused on recovering their strength, tending their wounds, and checking their equipment.

When dusk fell and the horizon turned a murky orange-red, they began packing their belongings.

Chen Yuhui remained unconscious, but her breathing had steadied, and her cheeks were no longer deathly pale.

“We could check out the park to the north,” Lin Hao said in a low voice. “When the drone flew over during the day, I saw several abandoned buildings there. The woods around them are dense, so it might be a good place to hide.”

He paused, then added, “I looked it up online. The city launched an environmental redevelopment project a few years ago and relocated some old factories, turning the original sites into a park. The buildings there may be old, but they should still be structurally sound… Of course, there are bound to be Madmen there too.”

“All right.”

Qingshui nodded and motioned for everyone to move out.

The moment they left the construction site, darkness surged around them like a tide.

Once, the night had meant the unknown and terror. Now, its heavy veil was their only camouflage.

The group moved through the shadows of the streets like ghosts, with Ji Feifan carrying Chen Yuhui in the middle of the formation.

The outline of the park gradually emerged. The first thing they saw was an enormous lake, with several artificial rock formations of varying heights scattered along its shores.

Qingshui listened for a moment, then led everyone straight past the rock formations and into the dense, overgrown grass behind them.

Perhaps most of the crowd had gathered near the lake. As they followed the rock formations deeper into the park, they encountered no Madmen, only a few scattered patches of blood that had long since turned black and some unidentifiable scraps.

Yet the abnormal quiet only made them more uneasy.

The air was thick with the stale odor of rotting vegetation, laced with a faint trace of something else… a familiar, cloyingly sweet scent.

Qingshui raised a hand. Everyone immediately crouched down and held their breath.

A sound came from up ahead, deep within the rock formations.

It was… a sweet, lilting laugh brimming with twisted delight, mingled with wet friction and muffled whimpers.

At this hour, in a place like this, there was no way those sounds came from humans!

Qingshui signaled for the others to remain hidden, then silently slipped forward. She parted a clump of withered grass and peered through.

In a small clearing enclosed by the artificial rocks, several twisted figures surrounded a shapeless mass.

One of the Madmen held a severed limb and was forcing its filthy stump into an abdominal wound on another of the Madmen. Rather than showing any pain, the latter let out a shrill, excited laugh.

A third figure among the Madmen lay sprawled on the ground, using its teeth to tear at a companion’s soft tissue as blood dripped from its chin. They were playing, venting their vile urges on their own kind.

Qingshui slowly withdrew. When Ji Feifan and An Xiaolin came up behind her, she quickly gave them a series of hand signals.

Surround them.

Ji Feifan gently lowered Chen Yuhui and propped her behind a rock. He hefted the length of rebar in his hand, one end ground to a sharp point. The prospect of the coming fight nearly made his fingertips go numb.

An Xiaolin gripped the ax handle in both hands, her knuckles white with tension, but her gaze was remarkably calm.

Using the rocks and wild grass for cover, the three silently spread out into a loose encirclement.

Meanwhile, Lin Hao pulled Zhou Yaping down beside Chen Yuhui. He quickly took out the controller, and the drone quietly lifted into the air.

In the clearing, the Madmen in the middle of their “game” abruptly froze. Almost in unison, they raised their heads, scarlet eyes turning skyward.

[Now.]

Qingshui moved.

She darted out behind the Madmen. Her first step landed without a sound; by the second, she was already upon them.

The outermost of the Madmen had only turned its head halfway when a dark blur flashed past. A wet squelch came from its temple, and its consciousness instantly vanished.

As Qingshui pulled out her blade, she spun with the motion and drove it straight through the throat of another of the Madmen lunging at her.

“I’ll kill every last one of you bastards and use your guts as drinking straws!”

The third figure among the Madmen charged with an excited shriek, wildly swinging a small knife. Instead of retreating, Qingshui stepped forward, twisted aside from the blade, and slammed a kick into the back of its knee. The instant it lost its balance and pitched forward–

“Pfft!”
Ji Feifan thrust his steel rebar through the front of the wildly laughing face, driving it straight through until half the bar emerged from the back of the creature’s skull.

Nearby, one of the Madmen tried to ambush Lin Hao and the others. An Xiaolin brought her axe down where its neck met its shoulder, the tremendous force nearly severing its arm.

The Madman burst into even louder, crazed laughter. “That feels so damn good, you bastard! Give me more! Make me feel even better! Aaaaaah!”

Expressionless, An Xiaolin stepped forward and swung her axe in a full arc. The blade struck its skull with deadly precision, and the laughter abruptly ceased.

From the first strike to the last, less than thirty seconds had passed.

“Move,” Qingshui ordered.

They did not linger or even spare the corpses on the ground another glance. Ji Feifan quickly hoisted Chen Yuhui onto his back, An Xiaolin tightened her grip on her axe, and Lin Hao recalled his drone. The group swiftly vanished into the darkness deeper within the park.

The farther they went, the fewer signs they saw of human maintenance. The weeds grew increasingly dense, nearly swallowing the path.

Toppled signs, dilapidated benches, and shattered lampposts lay half-buried in the overgrowth. Another acrid odor began to taint the air.

They pushed through one last patch of weeds that stood nearly as tall as a person. The view suddenly opened before them, revealing a scene even more desolate than before.

Several massive buildings loomed beneath the moonlight. Large sections of white plaster had peeled away, exposing the gray concrete underneath. Most of the windows were empty holes, and the towering chimney had broken apart. Cement mixers, support frames, and mountains of assorted materials lay scattered across the weed-choked grounds.

This had clearly once been a cement factory, but it had been abandoned for years.

“This will do.” Qingshui stopped and surveyed the sprawling, complicated terrain.

The buildings still looked reasonably sturdy. Their chaotic layout would make it easy to set traps, and although the stench was unpleasant, it might help conceal their scent.

“We’ll clear the nearest small building first and use it as our shelter tonight.” She quickly assigned their tasks. “Lin Hao, use the drone to scan the interiors of the main buildings. Focus on finding any signs that large numbers of Madmen have gathered there, and keep an eye on Chen Yuhui.”

“An Xiaolin, Ji Feifan, come with me. We’ll start clearing from the ground floor.”

They spent the next hour conducting a silent sweep. Qingshui led the other two through the building, cautiously inspecting every floor. Aside from thick layers of dust and overturned trash, they encountered no living threats.

Lin Hao also completed his search. He found no groups of Madmen or signs of any gathering inside the other large factory buildings and warehouses.

They chose a second-floor room with an intact metal door and small windows as their temporary shelter. Once inside, Ji Feifan set Chen Yuhui down in a corner.

She was much more alert now. After taking her medicine, she volunteered to stand watch. “You’ve all been working nonstop. I’ve rested long enough, so let me watch the entrance.”

Ji Feifan hesitated, but Qingshui nodded before he could object. “All right. Stay by the window and keep an eye on the area downstairs. Call us immediately if you notice anything unusual.”

Fortunately, the windowsill was wide enough for Chen Yuhui to sit on safely.

The others did not rest yet.

“We can’t rely on a single door to protect us.” Qingshui pointed to the narrow staircase below and the several routes leading to the building. “Ji Feifan, Lin Hao, find something heavy. Anything will do. Block every entrance on the ground floor except the staircase we’ve chosen.”

“An Xiaolin, come with me. We’ll set some traps around the perimeter.”

Using whatever materials they could find nearby, the two women fashioned several simple traps.

By the time everything was done, the night had grown late.

When they returned to the room on the second floor, everyone could finally remove their heavy backpacks and sit against the cold walls.

They carefully rationed out water and food from their packs and began to eat.

After swallowing her last mouthful of water, Chen Yuhui looked down at the others. “You should all get some sleep. I’ll take watch tonight.”

None of them argued. After making Chen Yuhui promise to wake someone and switch shifts immediately if she felt unwell, they lay down and curled up on the floor.

Soon, the only sounds left in the room were their muted breathing and the chirping of unknown insects in the distance.

Chen Yuhui gazed at the night sky. Her fingers drifted unconsciously to the bloodstained gauze around her calf. In the end, she merely released a long, heavy sigh into the darkness.

She truly hated being a burden to others.

She hated it so much.

Her nails dug deep into her palms, yet even the sharp pain failed to pull her from her thoughts.

Dad… Mom… Wherever you are, please watch over me.
“Hey.”

A low, raspy voice suddenly came from behind her. Chen Yuhui whipped around and saw An Xiaolin leaning against the wall, the axe still in her hand.

“Don’t dwell on it.” An Xiaolin tipped her chin at her.

“Whether you’re injured or not, we’ll have to raid a pharmacy for supplies sooner or later.”

Chen Yuhui’s nose suddenly stung. She forced a faint smile, her voice muffled. “Never thought I’d see the day when you comforted me.”

An Xiaolin walked over and gently bumped her shoulder against Chen Yuhui’s arm. Keeping her voice low, she said, “What else am I supposed to do? Let you cling to Qingshui and cry?”

“She’s dead asleep. Give her a break.” Chen Yuhui shook her head helplessly. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“My body clock’s out of whack. I can’t sleep,” An Xiaolin said.

“You didn’t come out here just to check on me, did you? Don’t bother. I’m not that fragile.”

“Ha.” An Xiaolin gave a cold laugh. “I know you too well. You’d better not cry right now. There isn’t even a tissue in this place, so you’d have to wait for the tears to air-dry on your face.”

Chen Yuhui immediately rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Couldn’t you be a little more gentle, like you used to be?”

“If I’d stayed gentle, neither of us would have survived this long.” An Xiaolin’s voice grew somber as her gaze fell on the bandages. “How’s the wound?”

“Not bad. I’ll count my blessings as long as it doesn’t get infected.”

At that moment, Qingshui sat in the shadows by the door. As she listened to their idle conversation, she gradually slipped into a hollow, drifting state.

Her body was exhausted, but her mind remained wide awake.

She had no idea how much time passed. Perhaps it was only a few minutes. Perhaps it was as long as a century. The darkness before her began to flow and distort.

She stood at the edge of the world.

The earth lay beneath her feet, and the sky stretched overhead. In the distance stood city buildings and walls. She recognized them. That was their base.

But now, the base was softening and collapsing like a wax sculpture under searing heat.

The buildings slowly bent. Rooftops streamed downward. The walls melted into viscous liquid and dripped into an abyss beneath the earth. Everything in the world was melting, spreading until it filled every inch of her vision.

Thick. Suffocating.

The sun appeared. No, it wasn’t the sun. It was an enormous eyeball, staring fixedly at her.

The eyeball swelled, growing larger and drawing closer. The crushing pressure left her chest unable to rise.

At the same time, the fissure beneath her feet widened. Countless figures crawled out of it and charged at her with snarling roars.

The sky pressed down as the ground split open. She was trapped between two steel plates steadily closing in on each other.

Run!

She ran.

She poured every ounce of strength into racing toward a direction that did not yet exist.

But the scenery around her melted faster, and the ground collapsed more rapidly. No matter how fast she ran, the eyeball and the fissure continued closing in at the same relentless pace.

She tried to scream, tried to shout, but she couldn’t make a sound!

The entire world was empty and silent. There was nothing but the absolute terror before her and the panic trembling in the depths of her soul.

Then–

“Click.”

A soft sound, crisp and cold, as though someone had flipped off a switch.

The world abruptly plunged into absolute darkness. Not the darkness of night, but the void-black that came from losing every source of light and all sense of space.

She stopped running and stood there, bewildered.

Instinctively, she lowered her head and looked at her hands.

The outlines of her palms were disappearing. Her skin turned transparent, clearly revealing the web of blood vessels underneath and the shadows of her bones. Then those, too, gradually faded like ink dissolving into water.

Starting at her fingertips, she disintegrated into specks of dust that drifted through the absolute darkness.

There was no pain. No fear.

She was disappearing.

Along with this world.

…

In the darkness, Qingshui’s eyes snapped open.

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. The wall pressed against her back, its chill solid and real.

Slowly, she raised a hand before her eyes.

All five fingers were intact, smeared with dust and dried blood. In the dim light, they looked as familiar as ever.