Cut one down as practice

I didn't sleep a wink all night, I was on tenterhooks.

After Zhou Yi finished showering, he was put to bed downstairs, but his snoring was as piercing as a police siren. Rapid and high-frequency, it penetrated the floorboards, pierced the roof, passed by my ears, and soared straight to the sky.

Not only me, but the other three people in my family are also greatly disturbed. Several times I heard someone turn on the light, put on slippers, and shuffle down the stairs. The snoring would subside slightly, but they would come back soon after, and then the snoring would resume.

All night long, the sirens wailed, but the snoring never stopped. Was there any creature in the vast wilderness that couldn't hear this sound? I was terrified that I'd wake up to find my yard surrounded by zombies.

I finally managed to doze off for a while in the early hours of the morning, but I was soon woken up by arguing. Listening closely, I heard Han Bo unilaterally berating Zhou Yi: "You're a born jinx! Anyone who lives with you will be killed by you. They'll either be annoyed to death by your snoring or bitten to death by the zombies your snoring attracts! If you keep going like this, we won't take you in. You may sleep comfortably, but what about the rest of the family? You're so unsociable!"

Then I heard my mom advising, "Forget it, let's find Xiao Zhou an anti-snoring clip tomorrow."

It seems they already know each other. I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep and unwilling to get up; my mind was a complete mess.

Last night, Han Bo ran into Zhou Yi while he was looking for a car. Zhou Yi was heading towards my house. Apparently, the supermarket has been overrun by zombies. He fought his way through, ran several blocks, found the Huafu Street market, and spotted my house immediately.

I was genuinely satisfied with his clear statement that he had come to seek refuge. Those zombies were probably brought there by our drive to the supermarket; he didn't die, nor did he hold a grudge, so I could finally let go of that lingering guilt. Today I'm going to pick up my second uncle; Zhou Yi has come to my rescue in a time of need. But I still told Han Bo to pay attention to his words and actions; he has psychological issues, and we need to have a contingency plan in case we notice any unusual emotional outbursts.

After that night, I realized that Zhou Yi had not only psychological problems, but also physiological ones.

After breakfast, Han Bo took Zhou Yi out to get the car. My dad dug out a pair of Nikes he bought a few years ago, changed into his favorite blue tracksuit for morning exercise, and squatted in the yard, spreading out scrap metal all over the ground, weighing each piece of knives, scissors, shovels, and entrenching tools in his hands.

My mom squatted down next to him, tilted her head to look at him, her eyes full of worry, and said, "I'll go too."

My dad glared at her: "Nonsense! Stay home and cook. You'll be back by noon."

My mom's face hardened: "What do you mean? You two are both gone, leaving me alone at home. What if a zombie comes knocking?"

My dad said, "No, the big iron gate is locked. They won't come looking for you if you don't go out."

My mom glanced at me and said, "No, you two can't both leave. I'm scared. You have Dafeng stay home with me."

My dad nodded without hesitation: "Okay, I wasn't planning on taking her anyway." He turned to me and said, "You stay home with your mom, the three of us are enough."

I wanted to go with them, but I swallowed the words back. Picking up my second uncle was a must, and no amount of persuasion could stop my dad. Although I knew I wouldn't cause trouble, I still felt that my presence would distract them. Staying home with my mom was the best option; otherwise, leaving her alone would make her sick with worry.

So I agreed: "Okay, I'll stay home and wait for Xiaobo to come back so we can finalize the route. Then I'll explain it to you guys."

Han Bo and Zhou Yi returned shortly afterward, twirling a car key in their hands, looking relaxed and cheerful.

"You're back. Have you found a car?" I greeted him.

Han Bo sighed: "There aren't many nice cars outside the market, this one has plenty of gas, and the keys are still in the ignition."

What kind of car is it?

"Wuling Bread".

"Uh... that's really down-to-earth," I said, a little surprised. "Is this car any good? Weren't you always looking for a luxury car?"

Zhou Yi, standing to the side, highly praised it: "It's practical. The owner of the restaurant where I used to work drove this kind of car. It's sturdy and spacious. You can kick it as much as you want without feeling bad. If you encounter a zombie, just run it over and throw it away if it gets damaged."

My dad listened and nodded, "Wuling is good, it can carry a lot of things. I've been thinking of buying one, but your aunt won't let me."

My mom scolded me, "Why are you buying a car if you don't have a driver's license? A car costs tens of thousands of yuan. I'm saving up for Dafeng's dowry. Don't even think about buying a car until she gets married."

My dad laughed: "Can't you just think about it?"

Han Bo joked, "Aunt Cheng must have saved a lot of money for Dafeng, right?"

My mother said with a proud look, "She's our only daughter. If we don't give her to her, who will? I'll use all the savings we have to give her as dowry when she gets married."

I broke out in a cold sweat. The conversation had drifted all the way to Siberia. How could these people have no sense of the apocalypse? Their supposed wealth? It's all worthless paper!

"Stop your nonsense! Are you even ready?" I interrupted their bizarre conversation in a fit of anger. "There are zombies outside, is it appropriate for you to be discussing dowries here?!"

My dad's expression turned serious: "Yes, let's hurry up and go, your second uncle must be getting impatient."

The group busied themselves for a while, some looking for weapons, others discussing routes. I quickly reiterated the seriousness of the situation to them, emphasizing the principle of running away rather than fighting. I gave my dad a thorough lecture, pouring out all the zombie knowledge I knew, using a mix of coaxing and scare tactics, hoping he wouldn't act recklessly and would prioritize saving others while ensuring his own safety.

Before leaving, I held Zhou Yi's hand with my left hand and Han Bo's hand with my right hand, and solemnly said, "I'm entrusting my dad to you two. Keep an eye on him, and if necessary, you can knock him out and carry him back."

The two of them nodded solemnly, while my dad glared at me and said, "You bastard!"

I escorted them all the way to the alley entrance, where I saw the three of them get into a nearly new Wuling Hongguang van. With two low rumbles, it slowly drove out of the market.

The market was covered by an asbestos-roofed shed, open on all sides, but the strong, fishy stench lingered in the air, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Every few meters, there was a tiled vegetable stand; some stands were empty, others covered with woven plastic sheeting. The ground was covered in stains, yellowish-black, indistinguishable as human footprints or traces of brain matter.

There are no zombies, no living people, not even a single corpse. Two years ago, this place was a bustling and lively spot, but it has gradually declined since the demolition and is now so empty that it is heartbreaking.

On that morning before the market opened, a horrific attack must have occurred here as well? Everything happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly. How many families in this city are as lucky as ours?

Yes, lucky. I suddenly feel I should thank the demolition office and the developers. If they hadn't ruthlessly torn down houses and destroyed roads, turning the surrounding area into ruins, this residential area of ​​tens of thousands of people would have become the most lucrative feeding ground for zombies. Xiao Bo's apartment building was ruined; how could a single-story house possibly fare any better?

I stood at the alley entrance, lost in thought, when I heard my mother calling out urgently in a low voice behind me: "Strong wind, strong wind."

Looking back, I saw my mother standing by the gate, waving at me frantically, her face flustered and her eyes bulging.

My heart sank, and I turned and ran back. Just as I reached the door, she grabbed me, pointed to the side of the room with her neck hunched, and whispered in my ear, "There's a zombie."

My house is the last one in this alley, after which it's a dead end. The alley wall connects to my house's outer wall, and there's a remnant wall from a neighbor's house on the right that blocks the way—zombies without enough intelligence can't get in. But the problem is that a small section of that wall is destroyed. That bastard Liu Yu used to lead a group around to the back of the alley to try and force us to move. They'd stick firecrackers into the cracks in the wall for fun, or a few bastards would take turns stomping on the wall, keeping us up at night. Eventually, my mom had to pour her foot-washing water out of her bedroom window a few times before they calmed down. But they definitely managed to create a hole in the wall; a person… or a zombie, could easily crawl through.

So when I heard my mom say that, I immediately panicked. I was just thanking the demolition office, thankful our house was spacious and inconspicuous, and now zombies are wandering over! My dad and his two main fighters are gone; if a whole bunch of them come, can I protect my mom?

"Don't speak, don't make a sound." I quickly told my mother, pulled her home, and quietly closed the door behind us. I braced myself against the steel bars, grabbed a wrench from a pile of junk in the yard, and rushed upstairs.

To avoid drawing attention, I crawled all the way to the edge of the roof, cautiously peeking down with only my eyes showing. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief when I saw what was there.

There was no batch, only one.

The zombies, looking as if they had just crawled out of a ditch, were indistinguishable in gender. Their hair was greasy and filthy, piled on their heads, their clothes were tattered, and one of their hands was missing. They were swaying and staggering in front of the alley's large opening, looking like they were about to die but couldn't.

Perhaps it had a particularly keen sense of smell and detected the scent of a living person, thus breaking away from the main group and coming alone to hunt for food. Otherwise, it's hard to explain why it would keep moving forward even after hitting a wall.

Turning to the east, I saw my mother looking up at me from the yard, her face full of anxiety. I waved to her and grinned, and she immediately understood and let out a long sigh of relief.

Seeing her instantly return to normal and even start bending down to tidy up the clutter, I once again admired her mental fortitude. Then, a thought suddenly occurred to me: it's better to rely on yourself than on others. Who knows how fast the zombies will take over the earth? What if I'm not around one day... Ugh! Anyway, as long as I'm alive, I should train my self-defense skills, right? It doesn't matter if I'm male or female, young or old.

Ten minutes later, I took a steel bar with a small piece of raw pork stuck on it and dangled it out of the hole in the wall. The zombie suddenly let out a sound: "Hungry..." Its tattered body was already blocking the entrance to the hole.

My mother stood by the hole, holding a large bone knife in both hands, and said in a low voice with a look of disgust, "Can't you just stab someone in the stomach? It smells so bad."

I glared at her, shushed her, and continued to shuffle the meat further inside. That zombie was heartbreakingly stupid; it could clearly smell the meat, clearly knew it was in this hole, yet it kept banging against the wall without even bending down to look for it.

I lifted it up, then slowly lowered it. As I lured it, I cursed myself. What the hell was I doing? Was I teaching a zombie to bend over? My mom, meanwhile, looked conflicted and muttered, "Why chop off heads? Just stab them to death. Only executioners chop off heads. I usually just kill chickens and fish, I'd never chop off heads."

Time ticked by amidst this temptation and entanglement. Under my tireless tutelage, the zombie finally learned to bend over. It shoved wildly in the direction of the pork, then poked its nose and lips out of the hole in the wall. Its hideous face, rotten to the point of being half-skull, with its bulging, grayish-white eyes and its dark, tongue-like thing sticking out, wailed at us: "Waaah... I'm hungry."

I pulled out the steel bar and hissed, "Chop!"

To my relief, my mother's hesitation and confusion vanished in an instant. She pursed her lips tightly, raised the large bone knife fiercely, and chopped off the head of the rotten-faced zombie with a "crack," as cleanly as cutting a melon.

The head rolled to my feet with a thud, sticky black blood oozing from the severed wound. But the zombie's intimidation didn't stop. Its rotten gums were still opening and closing with a clattering sound, and its dull, grayish-white corpse eyes were still staring straight at something.

"They're still alive?" I clicked my tongue in amazement and kicked my head against the wall. "What kind of virus is so vicious?"

My mom stretched her arms with the knife, pushed me aside and said, "I'll chop it up and see if it dies." Then she went forward and started chopping wildly, like she was chopping dumpling filling, her technique was extremely skillful.

I gave her a thumbs up: "Impressive! Weren't you just scared? How come you dared to behead someone?"

My mom chopped away while turning around and saying, "Ugh, its rotten face disgusted me. It even tried to bite people. It's such a disgusting thing. Every time we chop one down, there's one less disgusting one. Besides, it's not even a person, right?"

I watched as she chopped the zombie's head into a lump of black mud, and nodded vigorously: "Yes, Mom, it's the end of the world now. These filthy things are eating people everywhere, ruining so many families. One day we'll have to face them head-on. If Dad and I ever get to the point where we can't take care of you anymore, you'll have to show the same spirit you had when you were chopping these things down. Maybe I'll even need your protection. We can't lose anyone in our family!"

My mom said matter-of-factly, "You're my daughter, who else would I protect if not you? Don't think that just because I don't usually get involved with gossipy relatives, I'll fight anyone who bullies our family! Slaying zombies is nothing, I've killed countless chickens, ducks, fish and turtles."

I chuckled. I know I have a tough nerve, which I always thought was honed from fighting with boys since I was a child, through thick and thin, seeing broken legs, bloodied faces, and people clutching their intestines and screaming for help. Moreover, I work in a strange and cruel environment, so ordinary horrors can no longer shake my tough nerves. Now I realize that genetics has also contributed greatly to my growth into such a tough and tough woman. Like mother, like daughter.

The practice session went very smoothly. Now that the whole family had slain zombies, I felt a little more at ease. I went to the rooftop again and looked around for a long time, but there were no more zombies in sight. The sun rose brightly, and shards of glass glittered among the rubble. The temperature was unusually high; if I stayed in the sun any longer, I wouldn't feel comfortable wearing a denim jacket, even though it was only mid-March.

My mother used a dustpan to scoop away the zombie remains, then stepped onto a small stool and lay down outside the wall. Four zombies, including my second uncle's, lay sprawled there. Flies buzzed around, but didn't swarm; they landed on the zombies for a moment before flying away again. It stank. Even from the rooftop, I could faintly smell the putrid stench. Even the flies, which are naturally attracted to foul smells, refused to linger; it was like poison.

I calculated the time; I'd been gone for two hours. I wondered if I should call to check on them, but I was afraid of bothering them. Before leaving, I told Han Bo to call and let them know I was safe. I took out my phone, but there was no signal. I randomly dialed my third uncle's number, but there was no waiting tone; it was out of service. I dialed a few more, but all the calls were the same. I could only sigh deeply. My second uncle was really lucky; he was just one day away from not receiving my SOS call.

On the eighth day of the zombie outbreak, communications were cut off.

My mom started busy preparing vegetables and washing rice, so I went downstairs, grabbed my laptop, and went back up to the roof. Of course, the internet was down, so I randomly put on a silent movie and watched it intermittently, glancing towards the market every minute. My mind was racing with thoughts of what to do next, a jumble of unresolved ideas.

Around midnight, my mom called to me from downstairs: "Dafeng, the gas is almost gone, what should we do? Should we light the stove tonight?"

Just as I was about to reply, I suddenly saw the silver van drive into the market in the distance. I jumped up, rushed downstairs, and ran to the gate in a few strides, shouting, "It's back! It's back!"

My mom hurriedly wiped her hands and followed behind me. As soon as we went out, we saw Han Bo and Zhou Yi walking over, with my dad supporting them behind. They were all alright, with no missing arms or legs... My heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down.

"Oh, Binbin, come quickly to your auntie, you've suffered so much, child." My mother wiped away her tears and went to greet him.

Han Bo's expression was strange and dark. He brushed past my mother without even saying hello, grabbed me and pulled me into the yard. Without stopping, he dragged me into the kitchen.

"Fengzi, I have something to tell you..." He hesitated after standing still.

I was completely baffled. Looking at his face, which looked like someone had stolen his girlfriend, and then at Zhou Yi, who was standing at the kitchen door with a half-smile, seemingly indifferent, I was utterly confused.

"What's wrong? Did something go wrong? Did you get into a fight with zombies?"

“We’ve encountered zombies,” Han Bo said seriously, “but not on the road, but at the entrance of the air-raid shelter where your second uncle is hiding. There are more than a dozen of them.”

"Ah!" I had a bad feeling, and my heart, which had been relaxed, suddenly jumped again. "Which of you three got bitten?"

“The three of us weren’t bitten, but we killed more than a dozen of them. It was exhausting; my hands are still shaking.”

I rolled my eyes at him: "Are you kidding me? I thought you were infected! If you turned into a zombie, I'd kill you myself, don't worry."

"Stop joking around, I'm being serious," Han Bo leaned out to look at the yard. My parents had already welcomed my second uncle and Binbin into the house. He lowered his voice and said, "I... suspect your second uncle has been infected."