Chapter Thirty-One: The Cruelty of This Apocalypse (Part Two)

The sun rose as usual, its gentle rays filtering through the glass to touch my face, rousing me from my slumber.

I rose and quickly headed downstairs. I recalled seeing a cart by the garden when I arrived last night. Stepping outside, I scanned the grounds and spotted it tucked away in a corner.

Pushing the cart back to the supermarket from the day before, I delved deep into the warehouse to load up the supplies. Had I not returned for this unexpected errand, I might never have noticed the few crates of beer hidden at the very bottom of the towering stacks.

A surge of inexplicable excitement welled up in me. I eagerly pried open a bottle, using my teeth to pop the cap, and the crisp liquid slid down my throat.

"Ah, that hits the spot!" The long-forgotten scent of malt brought a wave of refreshing satisfaction.

"This is top-tier stuff; I can't give this to him!" I calculated to myself.

After packing, I realized the cart was so full of food that I couldn't push it, and I still had those crates of beer to deal with. How was I going to manage?

I summoned my "workhorses." Two zombies helped me carry the beer, while two others pushed the cart. Once we reached the villa, I handed the food over to the middle-aged man. He locked the heavy door tight, and I never saw him again.

After watching the door seal shut, I set off once more, aimlessly wandering the streets. Perhaps I should head to the city’s police station or the armed police headquarters to see if there was any way to contact the government.

Though I toyed with the thought, I had no map, no phone, and I had never been to Anqing City before. How was I supposed to find my way?

A luxury bus lay sideways ahead, blocking my path. In front of it lay a heap of human bones and zombie remains—evidence of a fierce battle between survivors and the undead.

I carefully navigated around the scattered remains and examined the bus. The front left side was crushed, fused with the driver's seat; the white upholstery was shredded into rags, stained with blackened blood.

The body of the bus was battered, marked by claw scratches. The dark, sealed windows were cracked, and the door facing the bridge had been smashed open, hanging precariously from its hinges.

I gingerly climbed inside. The interior was a chaotic mess, like a trash heap filled with bones, rags, and luggage of every size and color. My eyes fell upon the bags. Could there be anything useful inside?

Digging through the scattered luggage, I found only a pile of shampoos, conditioners, lotions, and hand creams, along with countless small items like foundation, lip gloss, eyebrow pencils, and eyelash curlers.

Among the heap was a Chanel bag, though it was an old model. Having gifted many such bags to girlfriends back in my university days, I knew a thing or two about these brands and styles.

"Sigh." My haul for the day was nothing but toiletries and cosmetics, plus that Chanel bag. All useless items. I picked them up, then tossed them aside.

On the seat to the right lay a leather handbag. I opened it and found a Huawei phone. "I wonder if it still works?" I pressed the power button on the side. A melody chimed, and the screen actually lit up! The HUAWEI logo appeared.

The wallpaper showed a little girl, perhaps ten years old, wearing a birthday crown. Her hands were pressed together in prayer before a cake. She was smiling, her expression sweet and lovely—she looked like a little fairy.

I opened the text messages and saw a string of unread messages from "Wife." I scrolled to the bottom and opened the earliest one.

January 7, 2020, 10:40 AM: "Honey, where are you? Come back quickly, people outside have gone crazy!"

January 7, 2020, 1:21 PM: "Honey, where are you? I'm so scared. The madmen outside have started eating people!"

January 7, 2020, 7:50 PM: "Honey, are you hurt? The monsters outside are pounding on the big iron gate. My daughter and I are hiding in the bedroom, safe for now!"

January 8, 2020, 10:10 AM: "Honey? Why aren't you replying? I'm worried sick!"

January 8, 2020, 2:47 PM: "Honey, did you get my messages? I can't get through to your phone! I miss you, and our daughter misses you too."

January 8, 2020, 8:02 PM: "Honey, I don't know where you are or if you're even still alive. Yesterday, I saw Mr. Zhou from next door try to drive away. I watched his car get surrounded, saw him dragged out, and watched him get eaten... I love you, honey."

...

After reading all the messages, I let out a long breath, but my heart felt heavy.

The phone owner’s wife and daughter were at home, while the owner himself had either been eaten or turned into a zombie. His wife was hiding, still dreaming that he would return to save them, but tragically, he would never make it back.

The day passed in a daze. I wandered into a hotel where zombies roamed the lobby, some still wearing waiter uniforms. I paid them no mind, heading upstairs to find a room to rest in.

I pushed open a door at random. It was a room with a large bed; the bedding was relatively neat, though the once-white sheets and quilt had yellowed with time. I didn't care. I collapsed onto the bed, my mind filled with the middle-aged man at the villa and the cold, chilling text messages from the phone. It all felt suffocating.

I rose slowly, ripped open a crate, and grabbed a cold bottle of beer, tilting my head back to drink deeply. One bottle, two, three... I tossed the empty bottles aside carelessly. They clinked as they collided, the crisp sound echoing in the silent room.

...

"Beep-beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep-beep..."

The sudden noise startled me awake. I shot up and scanned the room, but nothing was amiss. It was just the alarm on the phone beside me, ringing incessantly. Listening to the familiar electronic sound, I felt a strange reluctance to turn it off; it almost felt like a return to the past.

I stood up, stretched, and loosened my stiff joints before leaving the hotel.

Perhaps I had been too well-protected by Boss Xu, like a flower in a greenhouse, shielded from the elements. But the experiences of the last two days had hit me like a torrential storm, dragging me out of that warm sanctuary and forcing me to confront the true cruelty of this apocalypse—the collapse of humanity, the scarcity of resources, and the fleeting nature of life and death.

Looking out at the desolate ruins before me, a sense of unprecedented resolve welled up in my heart. If I continued to retreat and hide, I would truly become a walking corpse in this world—a soulless shell merely clinging to existence.

I took a deep breath. So be it. No matter the outcome, whether I live or die, as long as I take action, I will have no regrets.

"Time to hit the road! Boss, Yu-cheng, wait for me!"