Every day's work was exhausting. The mechanics would hardly ever entrust you with anything; most of the time, you were just tying things up, carrying them around, and hauling heavy loads. Back then, my body was
in pretty good shape. Even though I came home every day with an aching back, I'd collapse into bed and fall straight asleep.
As I reminisced about the past, I opened the hood. The moment I lifted it, the strong stench of burning hit my nose. When I
saw what lay beneath the hood, I understood...
"Is that... a leg bone?"
A pale, half-length leg bone lay beneath the engine. It had pierced the radiator and stuck into the oil pan.
"It's done for... The engine's probably seized." I watched a little wisp of smoke slowly rising through the gaps in the engine,
and even thought that it might not just be seized—it might have burned right through.
"In this condition... I don't think it can be repaired. It'd need a major overhaul at a 4S store..."
An engine seized because it ran out of oil, leaving nothing to lubricate it. Friction at high speed overheated the pistons and made them stick to the cylinder walls inside the engine.
Looking at the scene before me, I reluctantly lowered the hood. Weariness written all over my face, I returned to the car, took out my backpack,
slung it over my shoulder, and casually tossed the car keys aside.
With a long sigh, I headed straight for the apartment complex gate. As I passed Grandma Wang's Zombie, I greeted her without thinking.
"Morning, Grandma Wang..."
The word "morning" never made it out. I froze...
This really is... the apocalypse now...
I smiled helplessly, hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder, and walked right past Grandma Wang's Zombie as she tottered toward me, entering the complex.
This complex was poor; it barely even qualified as a proper residential community. Most of the people who lived here were relocated residents with little money. For someone like
me, who only needed a roof over my head, this quiet, out-of-the-way complex was ideal. And for writing, the peace and quiet clearly helped me work better.
Though I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, I warily drew the military knife from my waist. I put the pistol away in my bag;
without any bullets, it was no better than a piece of scrap metal.
I held the knife in a reverse grip. It gave me more leverage and let me strike faster. The reach was a little shorter, but there was no choice—this wasn't
a fight against another person.
If I were fighting someone, a longer reach would matter. Even a stab to their abdomen could instantly take away most of their ability to fight. But now,
my opponent was a Zombie.
If I couldn't drive the knife straight into its head in one go, I was the one who might die.
So, in this situation, reach didn't matter. What mattered was force and accuracy. I had to make sure I killed it with one strike.
I didn't know exactly how Zombies worked, but I'd learned the hard way, in several life-or-death situations, that their weakness was the head.
Besides, even a blind person could see that these Zombies could still move freely even with all their internal organs spilling out. They could even crawl without their
lower bodies. But without their heads, they went completely still.
As I thought about it, I passed the corner. I took two deliberate steps at that spot so I wouldn't be noticed by a Zombie appearing out of nowhere.
There weren't many people in this complex. It had only nine buildings, and most of the residents were elderly. So... when I turned the corner,
another very familiar face appeared before me.
Only half of that familiar face remained. One eyeball dangled below its socket, though I couldn't tell whether it was held on by blood vessels or nerves. The missing
half of its face still clearly showed bite marks.
"Grandpa Li, not playing chess today?"
Even though I knew they were Zombies, I still greeted the Zombie with only half a face, out of old habit.
And the Zombie responded, too—only its response was rather enthusiastic.
"ROAR!!!"
With a roar, Grandpa Li's Zombie rushed toward me. Instinctively, I raised the military knife and plunged it down!
Squelch!!
The knife sank into the top of Grandpa Li's head, almost halfway to the hilt. With the strike, his Zombie convulsed all over and then crumpled to the ground. As it fell, the knife was slowly pushed out of its head, slick with viscous fluid.
The body hit the ground. A little disgusting, sticky liquid seeped from the wound on its head. I crouched, wiped the blade on its clothes, then slowly raised
my head.
At the same time, scattered, high-pitched Zombie roars rang out across the complex.
"Zombies really do have their own way of communicating..."
As I spoke, I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder and quickened my pace.
My home was in the easternmost entrance of this building, right at the edge of the complex. At this point, I was only a minute or two away.
At last, I was home!
I wanted to shout those words, but remembering the Zombies outside, I had to hold back my excitement. I took out my keys and happily made my
way up the stairs.
My apartment was on the first floor, but not the kind of first floor found in older buildings. It had a basement level, so technically,
it was on the second floor.
I happily fished out my keys, but just as I was about to enter the stairwell, a Zombie seemed to hear my hurried footsteps and suddenly burst out from inside!
Taking it out with one strike was easy. These ordinary Zombies didn't scare me much anymore; I could handle up to three of them,
because their movements were far too
one-dimensional.
They could walk or run, and they were fast in a straight line, but they were extremely slow to turn. Their hands were stiff, too, and when they tried to grab
something, they usually reached out with both arms.
Really, all you had to do was dodge to the side just before a Zombie grabbed you. If you were quick enough, you could do what I did:
drive the knife straight into the back of its head or its temple. There was no need to twist the blade. One stab was enough; its momentum would send it
flying, and it would never get back up.
I killed this Zombie almost on instinct. Only afterward did I have time to look at it.
"Isn't that... the guy next door?" I glanced at the Zombie lying on the ground, its body still twitching faintly. Suddenly, I realized there might be something useful
on it.
I walked over and searched the now-silent Zombie. Sure enough, a key ring hung from a belt loop on its jeans.
I took it and looked at the Big Brother who had always liked showing off all kinds of high-tech gadgets to me. I sighed. "I never thought... you'd become a Zombie, too."
If Big Brother Liu hadn't become a Zombie, given the intelligence and vigilance he'd always shown, he wouldn't have died so easily. But it looked like
he must have turned into a Zombie right at the start of the apocalypse...
I shook my head and stopped dwelling on what-ifs. I weighed the keys in my hand and said quietly,
"Big Brother Liu, sorry for the trouble. I might have to bother you at home for a bit. If you're watching over me from above... please don't blame me."
As I spoke, I drifted into a daze... Did these people go to hell or heaven after they died?
But strictly speaking... I'd killed all of them myself. If heaven and hell really existed, I was sure I'd go to hell when I died.
I shook my head, and my long hair swayed back and forth with the motion. A strand even slipped inside my collar.
"I should probably figure out what to do about this long hair."
As I spoke, I walked upstairs. There were no strange sounds in the stairwell. There probably weren't any Zombies, or they'd all
left.
I slowly opened the familiar front door. The familiar smell of home washed over me, and at last, wearing a rare smile,
I stepped inside.
It was simple. My place had only been given a basic renovation. The floor was covered in tile, and the living room was right by the entrance. To the left and right were respectively
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