one-third of the hunting
We took turns keeping watch at night, and during the day we ate, chatted, and joked. Although there was one more person to feed, our food reserves were sufficient. For several days in a row, there was no sign of anyone within a hundred meters of my house, and very few corpses, so there was no risk of a crisis. Apart from staying home and not going to work, life in the courtyard seemed to be going on as usual.
The local forum homepage is flooded with posts, mostly pleas for help, but with very few replies. Large national online communities are a bit more lively, with netizens from all over the country fiercely discussing the situation daily—live streams, insults, speculations, and cries of despair are all commonplace, only highlighting the rapidly spreading panic. It seems most cities have fallen, and there's not a single piece of encouraging news. I've seriously doubted my confidence in our "easy to defend, hard to attack" strategy; after all, we're not facing humans, and they're not afraid to die.
Before lunch, my dad put down the remote and sighed, "It looks like the provincial capital is finished too. The reporters' necks have been bitten off. What's the use of just reporting these scenes? All they do is urge citizens to close their doors and wait for rescue, without any actual response measures. It's been days, where are the soldiers? There's not a trace of rescue!"
I shrugged and said, "Soldiers are human too, and humans change. Right now, they're probably too busy taking care of themselves to do anything else. Let's just wait and see."
Han Bo asked, "How many provincial-level television stations are left?"
"Four, I guess."
Han Bo pondered for a moment: "If you ask me, staying here and holding out isn't a solution. We should try to find as many people as possible to gather together. If there are no survivors left in the whole city, this place will be besieged sooner or later. We are too few people, and we probably can't withstand a head-on attack."
I agreed: "Yeah, having more people gives us more confidence in a group fight. The scariest thing is that zombies aren't afraid of getting hurt or feeling pain, but we are. If we get scratched or bitten even slightly, we're not far from death. We should leave as soon as possible and go to some uninfected cities to hide, form an alliance with other people, and discuss how to deal with them together."
My dad said, "What if you go out and run into a bunch of zombies that come to bite you?"
"Run! Kill! What else can we do? It's better than sitting here waiting to die, right?"
My dad glanced at me and said, "It's not necessarily a bad thing to die in your own home."
I glanced back and said, "Old fogey, I don't want to wait to die. Now no one will force you to move out, so you can stay here!"
My dad got angry: "Unfilial!"
Han Bo said, "Uncle, I'll drive out this afternoon to check the situation before we decide whether to stay or leave."
"No way!" My dad waved his hand dismissively. "Don't go out and take risks. You've come to live with your uncle, so he has to take responsibility for you. How am I supposed to explain this to your dad if something happens to you!"
Han Bo helplessly spread his hands: "My dad is basically... gone."
Just then, my mother came in and quickly set the table with food, saying as she did so, "Whether you leave or not is up to you three, but I have to tell you in advance that we're out of food."
I was shocked: "Huh? It's only been a few days? You've already eaten all the hundred pounds of oil, rice, flour, chicken, fish, and meat you cured for the New Year?"
"We have plenty of grain and meat, but no vegetables." My mom pointed to the table. "Vegetables! They were gone last night, didn't you notice?"
Come to think of it, my mom hasn't been to the market for five or six days straight. Even the freshest green vegetables she bought before must be wilted by now. No vegetables are a big deal! A monk who never eats meat can live a very robust life, but if he runs out of vegetables, he'll soon have inflamed gums, mouth ulcers, and constipation. He won't even need zombies; he'll just take his own life.
Most importantly, who can stand eating meat every day?
Sure enough, due to the psychological suggestion, lunch was greasy and fatty, making it a bit hard for us to swallow. The stir-fried lamb with scallions was the most popular because it contained scallions!
Hanbo and I decided to go out for a walk, mainly to check out the current situation and maybe pick up some vegetables and fruits while we were at it. My dad was initially a bit reluctant, but when I told him we were out of beer and cigarettes, he agreed.
After dinner, I took a shower, shook my short hair, changed into a neat denim outfit, and went out of the room. I saw Han Bo and my dad picking out weapons in the yard. He turned around, saw me, his eyes flashed, as if he wanted to say something but didn't. He tossed his head at me and went out the gate first. I thought about it for a while and decided to only bring a box screwdriver. It's easy to carry; you can just stick it in your back pocket and use it when you need it. It's light, easy to handle, and much more useful than a kitchen knife or a brick.
My mom stood at the door, giving me countless instructions and warnings, clearly worried about me. My dad impatiently pulled her back, saying, "She's just a little silly, but she's not stupid. When has she ever suffered a loss in a fight or when she runs away?"
I think that although my dad doesn't usually praise me much, he actually thinks very highly of me deep down.
I hadn't left the house for a few days, and the rotting corpses at the door were already attracting flies. I frowned as I walked and called out, "You two should tidy up the area at the door if you have nothing else to do. It's getting hot, and it's really disgusting."
Han Bo's QQ was parked at the corner of the alley. He was leaning against the car smoking, glancing at me sideways with a wicked smile, and said, "All cleaned up and smelling nice, looking for a bite?"
I pulled down my collar and sniffed: "You dog nose, even after washing with boric acid soap, you don't smell good at all. You're washing away the human scent, you just don't want to be bitten."
Han Bo raised an eyebrow, flicked his cigarette butt, opened the car door, and asked, "Where to?"
"Da Hongfa".
The supermarket wasn't far, just three blocks away. Han Bo and I walked in silence, our eyes darting around warily. Under the bright sun, the usually bustling city was shrouded in an eerie silence. The streets were deserted, not a soul in sight. The traffic lights seemed to be in the hands of some mischievous child, changing their positions wildly every second. The shops along the road were open, but unattended, with swarms of flies buzzing in and out. Several steamers were stacked outside a breakfast shop; the top one was open, revealing large, yellowish buns speckled with blood, like streaks of red paint—a horrifying sight. I looked away, feeling a wave of nausea wash over me.
"Where did all these people... their corpses go?" Facing the familiar streets deserted, I felt extremely uncomfortable, as if I had entered another time and space.
"Just like us, they went to find something to eat." Han Bo's tone was relaxed, his tense back gradually relaxing. He floored the gas pedal, and the car groaned as it surged forward for dozens of meters. "Great, no one cuts in, no one overtakes, I've never felt so comfortable."
I rolled my eyes at him: "Even if your beat-up car had wings, it couldn't fly."
Han Bo's eyes suddenly lit up, and he said with a smile, "That's right, we should get a new car so it will be easier to run away in the future."
"Change what?"
"Land Rover, Hummer, Jeep, they're big, powerful, and fast. If you see a good one, just switch to it."
"Keep it up. How much does a Land Rover cost? If we sold ourselves together, we could only afford a tire."
Han Bo laughed loudly: "Are you stupid? Do you need money to change cars now? Do you see that Toyota on the side of the road? The one with the door open. I guarantee that the key is still in the ignition."
I glanced at it and scoffed, "Japanese car."
"No Japanese cars," Han Bo seemed to have a sudden inspiration and got excited. He slowed down and greedily scanned the cars parked on the side of the street. "A4, Excelle, Golf... Hey, this SUV is beautiful."
I found it boring: "Come on, the only people who would leave their car keys to you are probably dead. Don't you feel disgusted?"
"I have no taboos."
"The smell of the car owner's flesh and blood still lingers in the car, his liver, intestines, and brains are all over the seat, and his eyeballs might even be rolling around next to the accelerator. Doesn't that make you feel disgusted?"
"..." Han Bo looked at me speechlessly and didn't reply.
Turning a corner, Dahongfa Plaza came into view, still deserted. Han Bo drove slowly around the parking lot, where several cars were already parked, neatly arranged according to the parking lines, their front faces towards the entrance, as if shoppers might appear at any moment to drive them away. Han Bo didn't stop, driving straight to the supermarket entrance.
I was about to get off the bus when he stopped me, saying, "Don't get off, I'll go."
"Why?" I peered into the entrance. The spacious aisle was spotless, the marble floor gleaming, and shopping carts and baskets were neatly arranged to one side. Apart from the dim lighting, everything looked as fresh and clean as if the store had just opened to customers that morning. "There's no one here. Wouldn't it be better if we went together? We could take more."
Han Bo took a sharp knife from the back seat of the car, wiped it on his trouser leg, and said, "Nobody? Are the supermarket staff invisible? There are so many cars in the parking lot, there must be customers inside. Of course, we don't know if they're alive or dead. I'll go alone. If you don't see me out in ten minutes, you can drive away."
I scoffed, "You mean I should run away as soon as you get bitten?"
"Of course."
What do you take me for?
Han Bo lowered his eyes. "Women, what else could they be?"
I was furious: "Bullshit! You're going to discriminate against me now? When you got beaten up by Qiangzi, who avenged you? When you broke your leg, who carried you to and from school four times a day? When you stayed up late at the internet cafe, who acted as a human ladder to help you climb over the wall and get home? Now you know I'm a woman!"
“When I was little, I really thought you were a man,” Han Bo said helplessly as he lit a cigarette. “But that was when I was little. Now if I still think of you as a man, it would make me seem less manly.”
"Pah! You're always like a listless old woman, get out of the car!" I jumped out of the car without saying another word and headed straight for the supermarket.
"Hey, don't close the car door!" Han Bo called out in a low voice. I turned around and saw him open the passenger door again. I ran after him.
The supermarket's main entrance was closed, but a small side door could be pushed open. Inside, we tiptoed around, peeking out cautiously, but there wasn't a soul in sight. Rows and rows of goods sat obediently on the shelves. There were no promoters, no cashiers, no managers, and no security guards. If you had the ability, you could empty the entire supermarket without paying a single penny. Forgive my petty-bourgeois mentality, but faced with the prospect of taking whatever you wanted for free, I was tempted several times to smuggle everything out of the cosmetics and electronics sections.
Han Bo was more magnanimous than me. He only paused for a moment by the wine cabinet before resolutely pulling me straight to the food section.
Time was plentiful, because it didn't mean much to us at the moment. The only reason we were able to resist the temptation was the eerily quiet atmosphere in the supermarket. This quietness, appearing in an environment where it shouldn't have been, was unsettling enough to send chills down our spines.
The food section was well-stocked with fresh vegetables, fruits, and snacks, and didn't seem to show many signs of spoilage. Han Bo grabbed two baskets from the checkout counter, but I shook my head in dissatisfaction, pointing to the shopping carts outside. The baskets couldn't hold much; after risking our lives to come all this way, we had to get enough food. Han Bo disagreed. He grabbed my arm as I was about to walk over and whispered in my ear, "The carts are noisy. We need to be as quiet as possible now, so we don't disturb the people looking for food."
I thought he made sense; it was better to be careful at this time. Who knew where those things were hiding? So I obediently followed him to the vegetable shelf, picking up any normal-looking greens, potatoes, and tomatoes and stuffing them into the basket. We moved quickly, taking as we went, and in no time the basket was full. Turning a corner, I saw a pile of white radishes on the ground. I glanced at it and froze for a moment. The pile of radishes was covered with irregular red spots—clearly blood.
The section for radish prices on the stall was empty, clearly indicating that the staff had just unloaded the radishes and hadn't had time to put them on the shelves yet. The reason for this was also obvious. The bloodstains weren't just a few drops or a streak, but a large, splattered area covering the radishes and extending to about three meters around them, mottled and varying in intensity, as if someone had tried to wipe away blood but hadn't quite succeeded. Following the direction of the blood, several radishes rolled under the stall. As if possessed, I slowly bent down, my eyes scanning them, and my sensitive stomach immediately reacted.
I couldn't help but gag. Han Bo, quick-witted, turned around immediately, frowning and looking at me questioningly. I could only point to the area under the stall. Han Bo gently put down his basket, tiptoed over, bent down to look, and couldn't help but gag as well.
Half a person was lying under the stall.
This isn't a grammatical error, and it's entirely out of pity for that person that I described him this way. In reality, at most only a third of his body remained alive: his head, shoulders, chest, and one intact arm. Below the chest, there was nothing left but a few clumps of blood mixed with a sticky substance. As for where the other two-thirds went, and what those dark, wet, greasy rags below his chest were, I simply didn't want to think about them.
Han Bo and I, having seen our share of zombies—holes in the chest, half-eaten cheeks, brains gnawed out—each with its own unique characteristics, were still as brutal as this one, with a third of its body mutilated. We stared at each other in disbelief for a long time. Undoubtedly, he was dead, devoured by zombies, not even a complete corpse left.
Han Bo frowned, looked around, and said softly, "This place is not safe to stay. Take your things and leave!"
Just as I expected, if the previous safe journey had emboldened me somewhat, the appearance of this third of the corpse sent chills down my spine. If it weren't absolutely necessary, I wouldn't even want to take those vegetables—I had no idea how long I'd been fuming with the stench of death. Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures, so without further ado, I gritted my teeth, grabbed the basket, and started to walk… but I didn't make it!
"Xiao Bo..." I managed to squeeze out a call from my throat, shivering. Han Bo turned to look at me, his gaze following the direction of my finger. He immediately stiffened, silently gesturing for me to be quiet, and then pulled a screwdriver from his waist.
A hand was stuck in my right ankle, holding me back. I held my breath, afraid to move, lest I find teeth instead of a hand stuck in my ankle. Even though only a third of it remained, the preserved organs were just enough to complete the first two steps of hunting.
Han Bo crouched down in front of me, a cold glint in his eyes, and raised the screwdriver high, ready to stab me. I asked urgently, "Where are you going to stab me?"
Han Bo stopped what he was doing, blinked, and said, "It's painful. Make him let go!"
I looked at him suspiciously: "Have you ever watched a zombie movie? I've never heard of zombies feeling pain!"
Han Bo blinked: "Then where do you think I should stick it?"
"Brain!" I said fiercely, lowering my voice. Just ten minutes ago I thought he was very thoughtful, but now that things are in trouble, he suddenly stops using his brain.
Han Bo swallowed hard, bent over to examine the bottom of the stall, and after a long while said with difficulty, "It won't work, this guy's head isn't turned, he's just munching on the ground, I can't reach it!"
When I heard him say that, a thought struck me. Gnawing on the ground? A perfectly healthy person was only half a meter away from him, why wasn't he hurrying over to crawl over instead of gnawing on the ground? Thinking of this, I quickly said, "Look closely, is this person's neck broken?"
Han Bo ostrich-like bent over and observed for a while, then looked up and exhaled a long breath: "It really is true, there's only a layer of skin connecting the back of the neck, so it can't eat anything anymore."
I breathed a sigh of relief. One-third of them shouldn't be underestimated. They have arms and mouths, and waiting for them to bite us might not be a bad idea. He grabbed my foot just now, and if he had been quick, he could have easily bitten me. But if his neck was broken, he would be completely out of luck. He wouldn't be able to cause any trouble without us having to lift a finger.
I kicked my legs first, and sure enough, the ghostly claw gripped even tighter, its fingers seemingly trying to dig into my flesh. The fact that it still had a predatory instinct even with its neck broken was chilling. Without further hesitation, I pulled a screwdriver from my back pocket and started prying. Han Bo swung the screwdriver, stabbing the back of the hand repeatedly. A third of it made a hissing sound under the stall, like a leaking gas.
We struggled for a while, prying and tying at it, tearing the ghost claw to shreds and smearing black liquid all over our pants, but we finally managed to pry it open. Han Bo spat, "This isn't a zombie, it's practically an iron warrior! Even prying steel bars wouldn't be this difficult!"
I rolled up my trouser leg and saw a ring of bruises around my ankle, which was throbbing slightly. My heart sank a little more, and I sighed, "Don't underestimate these things just because they move slowly. Once they get on you, you can't shake them off, especially in a group fight. They're not afraid of death and will tear you apart one by one. How can we, mere mortals, possibly withstand that?"
Han Bo turned around and picked up his basket: "Stop analyzing nonsense, let's go back quickly, this place is definitely not safe."
"Then let's go quickly!"
Before I could finish speaking, I suddenly felt a chill on the back of my neck. Something cold and hard appeared out of nowhere and was pressed against that spot. Immediately afterward, a sinister and terrifying voice, radiating an extremely unkind aura, rang in my ear: "Don't move."
I was taken aback, and then heard someone behind me say, "Put the things down."
Han Bo turned his head again in surprise, his eyes wide open. I, however, hesitated for a second before quickly dropping the basket, covering my head with my hands, and kneeling down with lightning speed, shouting, "Don't shoot! I'm human too!"
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