Shelter

Georgia Emergency Shelter.

"I am Professor Amrin from the Department of Electronic Engineering at the Georgia Institute of Technology, and I've come to rescue you."

"If anyone is still here, please respond to me."

As this rescue message came through the loudspeaker, the shelter, which had been deathly still, suddenly began to stir.

The shelter wasn't large—about 1,000 square meters. The front hall, roughly 700 square meters, held sofas and cots, with separate bathrooms and showers for resting. The back hall, around 300 square meters, combined a dining area and kitchen, furnished only with tables, chairs, and cookware. A sturdy bulletproof glass door separated the two halls.

In the front hall, over a hundred rotting zombies heard the sound from the entrance. They all turned their heads in unison, staring at a large display screen on the door. Fixated on the figure in a suit and tie shown on the screen, they began to hiss and slowly drag themselves toward him.

In the back hall, more than seventy haggard, dispirited humans also heard the voice coming from the display.

The twenty or so people near the glass door felt a jolt of energy, a faint glimmer of hope flickering in their dull eyes.

At the head of this group was an elderly gentleman in his fifties. Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he pulled a white asthma inhaler from his somewhat grimy suit pocket and took a few puffs.

After taking a few deep breaths, the old gentleman turned to the young people beside him and said:

"Classmates, the food in the warehouse is running low. This may be our only chance to escape. If we don't get out, everyone will be trapped here to die."

"I have a plan."

The elderly gentleman pointed at the zombies in the front hall, pausing briefly before continuing:

"These monsters are very sensitive to sound, and their eyes seem to detect light as well."

"While they're distracted by the voice from the display on the door, you cut the power to the front hall. I'll slip out with a blanket, cover myself, and hide in a corner."

He extended his aged arm, pointing at the bulletproof glass door separating the front and back halls, and went on:

"Once I'm hidden, you pound on the bulletproof glass, shout loudly, and make noise to lure these monsters over."

"I'll take that chance to sneak over and press the red button next to the main door—that's the button to open the shelter's entrance."

As he spoke, his clouded eyes looked at the students before him—those who had followed him, refused to give up hope, and remained strong and brave. His voice carried a hint of resignation.

"If the rescue personnel outside can handle all these monsters, that would be best."

"If they can't, and opening the shelter door gives you even a sliver of a chance, then so be it."

"You can wait. Wait for something to change outside, for something to lure all these zombies away, and then make your escape. As for whether you live or die after that, we can only pray for God's mercy."

No sooner had he finished outlining his plan than both his arms were grabbed by the graduate students beside him. A pair of siblings named Peggy and Hillman stopped him. The sister, Peggy, said:

"Professor Jacob, let me go."

"You're old now, and your body can't handle it. Don't you remember? Earlier this year, I came in second in the school's 400-meter dash. If it's me, I'm sure I can dodge those monsters' attacks."

The girl's brother, Hillman, shook his head firmly and said, "Sister, let me go instead. This kind of thing should be a man's job. I'm the star player on the school football team—I'll definitely be fine."

Many other graduate students joined the argument, each acting as if they should be the one to take the risk, though their words lacked conviction, and their eyes were full of hesitation and fear.

Professor Jacob first smiled with relief, then shook his head resolutely and said:

"It's precisely because I'm old that I might not be able to adapt to the outside world even if I get out."

"That's why I want to leave this chance to you. You're young, you're excellent—you all deserve a brighter future."

"My family is already gone. I have no attachments left. Let me do this."

Seeing the old professor's iron resolve to go through with it, Peggy shot her brother a meaningful glance.

Hillman understood immediately. He quietly raised his right hand and struck the old professor hard on the neck. Struck by the blow, the professor's eyes rolled back, and he passed out. As a top student in the medical department, Hillman had long studied this method of knocking someone unconscious.

Seeing her brother knock out Professor Jacob, Peggy let out a snort. She cast a contemptuous look at the other corner of the back hall, where more than fifty people were huddled together, motionless as clay statues, seemingly indifferent to everything. She muttered the word "cowards" under her breath.

She sat back down in her own circle and said to the other students:

"We'll follow Professor Jacob's plan. I'll go open the shelter door. You all make noise here to draw the zombies' attention."

"Any problems?"

Seeing a girl volunteer for the most dangerous task, many of the male students wore expressions of shame, but they hesitated to speak up and take her place. One by one, they agreed, saying they'd support her from inside.

Peggy snorted again. With a stern look, she silenced her brother Hillman's objections. She grabbed a blanket from a corner of the back hall, walked up to the bulletproof door, pointed at the electrical switch on the wall, and gave her brother a meaningful glance.

Click!

All the light in the front hall went dark instantly, leaving only the sound and image from the display at the entrance. The zombies, drawn by the noise and glow, had already crowded together near the door.

Peggy silently opened the bulletproof door, crouched low, and draped the blanket over herself. Half-bent, half-crawling, she slipped through the gap.

The moment she stepped out, the thick stench of rotting corpses assaulted her nostrils, making the courage she had barely mustered shrink sharply. She fought the urge to flee back into the back hall, forcing her limbs to move inch by inch until she crawled to the corner farthest from the zombies.

Crouched in the corner, Peggy wrapped herself in the blanket, leaving only her eyes exposed. Using the light filtering through the glass windows, she watched the zombies' movements.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Amid the humans' curses and the pounding on the glass doors and windows, Hillman and his companions hammered on the bulletproof glass, generating a torrent of noise at the junction between the front and back halls.

This sound, tinged with the "scent of humans," seemed to draw the zombies' attention far more than the monotonous broadcast.

Soon, the hundred-plus zombies clustered at the entrance began to turn around and shuffle toward the glass doors and windows of the back hall.

Seizing the opportunity, Peggy pressed herself into the corner, making no sound, and slowly crept toward the main door.

Slowly, inch by inch, she crept closer, slipping past the zombie horde until she was near the main gate.

Unfortunately, the girl didn't know that zombies hunted not only by sound but also by scent.

The few zombies at the rear of the horde suddenly seemed to sense something. They turned around and began moving back toward the gate.

Peggy noticed this too. Seeing the zombies heading her way, she abandoned all pretense of stealth, stood up, and slammed her hand onto the red button on the wall.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

With the sharp blare of the alarm, the Shelter's steel gate began to slide open slowly.

But unlike what Peggy had imagined, the gate opened far too slowly. It wouldn't be able to create an opening large enough for a person to slip through before the zombies surrounded her.

Realizing this, the girl's heart began to pound violently. As she thought of what would happen once the zombies closed in, her legs started to tremble uncontrollably.

Could it be... I'm going to die here?