52. Past
In a small cleared space in the center of the carriage, several pieces of dry wood, removed from discarded seats, were meticulously stacked. An orange-red flame greedily licked at them, crackling softly and sending up scattered sparks, like fleeting bursts of hope amidst despair, only to be extinguished by the thick, impenetrable darkness surrounding them. The flickering flames illuminated the faces of the few seated people and cast twisted, elongated shadows on the carriage wall behind them, like the nightmares lurking in everyone's heart, waiting for their turn.
The air, along with the usual rust and damp mustiness, was now thick with the pungent aroma of smoke and the bitter, fragrant herbal broth Bai Yan was heating in a small metal can. This faint scent, like a fragile barrier, struggled futilely against the pervasive chill and despair deep within the tunnel.
Deathly silence weighed heavily on everyone's heart. Only the whisper of the flames and the ever-changing howling of the wind from the end of the tunnel intertwined into a heart-wrenching silence, like the suffocating calm before a storm.
Su Lin sat curled up on a tattered velvet blanket, his posture a gesture of extreme insecurity and self-preservation. He clasped his hands tightly around his knees, his slender arms trembling slightly from the exertion, as if this were the only way to draw a tiny sliver of warmth from his own cold self. The dancing firelight cast flickering, tiny specks of golden light in his amber eyes, as clear as the first melting snow in the forest, but it couldn't illuminate the deep, inextricable grief and fear that clung to him. He was still wrapped in the thin, washed-white blanket, which made the exposed skin of his neck and wrists appear even whiter, almost translucent, like fine oriental porcelain, shattering at the slightest touch. A few strands of soft black hair, damp with sweat and tears, clung to his smooth, full forehead and gracefully contoured cheeks, adding a touch of frightening fragility.
His gaze fell unfocused on the dancing flames, his long lashes casting thick, fan-shaped shadows across his eyes, trembling slightly, as if the orange light were a portal to the abyss of the past, burning away memories he dared not touch. The long silence threatened to crush his frail frame. Finally, he drew a soft breath, a thin, trembling sound, like the final cry of a dying bird, with a heartbreaking rhythm.
"...In the past," he began, his voice as soft as a spider's thread in the wind, ready to break at any moment, "I also had a group of... family members."
These words were like an ice-hardened blade, instantly breaking through the oppressive silence and accurately piercing the softest part of everyone's heart.
A Yan's head shot up, his golden eyes gleaming fiercely in the firelight as he locked eyes with Su Lin, seething with rage, heartache, and an almost ferocious protectiveness. Lei Qing's rock-steady movements as he wiped his gun paused for a moment, imperceptible. Though he didn't look up, his broad, thick shoulders seemed to tense, like a bow poised for release. Mu Lin's gentle gaze was filled with understanding and a gnawing pain, as if he could sense every ounce of Su Lin's pain. Ling Ye folded his arms, leaning against the cold, rusted wall of the carriage. His usual stern expression was replaced by a rare solemnity, his eyes sharp and focused. Bai Yan's bony hands paused from stirring the herbal soup, and he listened intently, a ripple of emotion flickering in the depths of his calm eyes. Xingchen, guarding the doorway, his back straight as a javelin, muscles tensed, as if using his entire body to build a silent, solid barrier against this fragile moment.
"When the apocalypse first struck... my classmates, along with people we met along the way... who, like us, were struggling to survive in the mud... we formed a small team." Su Lin's voice was vague and distant, as if it came from another world completely consumed by blood and fire. "It wasn't a large group... but it was a good one. Senior Li Mo was like an older brother, understanding everything and always giving me the safest corner. Sister Chen Wei was like the sun, always giving me any chocolate she found, even if it was only half a bar, because she said I was too skinny. Xiao Zhao... was only sixteen, timid, and always followed me around like a little tail, afraid he'd hold me back..."
He described those faces, long blurred by blood and fire, with an almost numb calmness in his voice, but beneath this calmness lay a surging, soul-tearing pain. His eyes were hollow, unfocused, as if his soul had been completely withdrawn, submerged in the quicksand of memories of that brief, warm moment that ended in the cruelest way.
"We found a place... a small supermarket warehouse that wasn't completely emptied... there were canned goods and clean water in it... we thought... we could finally... take a breather..." His voice sank, with a nightmare-like trance, and the corners of his mouth even unconsciously drew up a very faint and illusory arc, as if he had touched a faint sweetness from the past, which was then swallowed up by endless bitterness.
"We were so happy...we forgot to be vigilant, and forgot that in this damned world, the hungriest and most venomous...are not just the walking dead outside..."
His speech speed suddenly increased, his breathing became rapid and irregular, and his delicate collarbone was faintly visible under the thin blanket as his chest rose and fell violently, as if countless invisible hands were strangling his throat and he was on the verge of suffocation.
"They are coming... There are a lot of them, holding sharpened steel bars and machetes... Their faces are as green as hungry wolves... They have blocked all the escape routes." His body began to tremble uncontrollably, like fallen leaves in the cold wind. The thin blanket slipped from his thin shoulders, revealing his graceful neck and a small patch of dazzlingly white skin, on which one could even see the light blue veins.
"They want to take everything... everything... The way they look at me... is like looking at a piece of... rare meat waiting to be slaughtered..." Su Lin's voice was clearly filled with tears. Fear and humiliation once again overwhelmed him like an icy tide, making him feel cold all over. "Li Mo blocked me tightly behind him, his back was like a wall... Sister Chen Wei stood in front, scolding them with the most unpleasant words, trying to attract attention... Xiao Zhao was so scared that she huddled beside me, her little hands scratching my arm so hard that it hurt, her nails almost digging into my flesh..."
"They started..." He suddenly closed his eyes, his thick, curled eyelashes trembling violently like butterfly wings snapped by a strong wind. Tears instantly burst forth, flowing uncontrollably, rolling down his pale, bloodless cheeks, gathering at his jaw, and then dripping, leaving a small, dark, heartbreaking wet mark on the carpet at his knees. "The sounds of fighting... crying... insults... Senior Li Mo was... impaled... by a rusty rebar... Sister Chen Wei, to give us even a split second to escape... she threw herself at the knife-wielding beast like a madman, embracing her body..."
"I... I had a fever, felt dizzy, and my legs were so weak I couldn't stand... The world was spinning... Xiao Zhao was crying, pulling me with all her strength... We... We escaped through the dog hole at the back door... I couldn't help but look back..." His voice was completely broken, interrupted by violent sobs and whimpers. Every word seemed to be dug out from his bloody heart. "I saw... I saw the look in my senior's eyes when he fell... It was so complicated... And Sister Chen Wei... She was still shouting 'Go!' at the end... Her voice was even out of tune..."
The overwhelming grief, like a devastating tsunami, completely drained his last remaining strength. He could no longer maintain his posture, curling up like a fawn pierced through the chest by an arrow. He buried his tear-stained, heartbreakingly beautiful yet deeply broken face deep in his knees. His bony shoulders shook violently as he let out a suppressed, mournful sob, like the dying animal. The cry was soft, yet tinged with piercing despair and the thick scent of blood, hammering at everyone's heart and freezing the very air.
At this moment, the figure as steady as a mountain moved.
Lei Qing gently set down the gleaming, half-wiped sniper rifle component in his hand and stood up. His movements were slow, yet they carried a decisive, undeniable strength. He walked steadily toward Su Lin, his shadow casting over the huddled figure, nearly fainting from sobbing. Without extra words or empty offers of comfort, he simply bent down, extending his calloused hands, stained with countless filth and blood, and grasped the trembling, fragile, glass-like body tightly, almost with an air of absolute protection, into his broad, strong, and warm embrace.
Su Lin froze for a moment, as if startled by the sudden contact. Then, the familiar, reassuring scent of gunpowder, sweat, and a hint of engine oil enveloped him. The tension he'd been holding tight suddenly snapped, all his strength and pretense crumbling in an instant. He instinctively reached out and grasped the fabric of Lei Qing's shirt with all his might, his knuckles white as he buried his wet, tear-stained face deep into that solid, burning chest, as if it were his only safe haven in the apocalypse. He finally gave up and burst into tears. The fear, guilt, helplessness, and sorrow that had been pent up for so long burst forth like a flood that broke through a dam, soaking the clothes on Lei Qing's chest.
Lei Jun offered no empty words of comfort. He simply wrapped one arm tightly around Su Lin's thin, trembling back, and with his other hand, he clumsily but firmly, rhythmically patted him, as if soothing a child who had endured every possible fear in the world. His gaze, as deep as an ancient well, cast upon the still-fluttering bonfire, churning with complex, unspeakable emotions—profound understanding, heartbreaking regret, and an even deeper, unshakable resolve called "protection."
The carriage was dead silent, with only Su Lin's heartbreaking sobs, which he could no longer suppress, and the continuous crackling of the burning firewood.
After a long while, until the violent trembling in his arms gradually subsided and the crying turned into tiny, intermittent sobs, Lei Qing's low, magnetic voice, tempered by countless life and death experiences, slowly rang out. It wasn't loud, but it was as clear as a heavy hammer, reaching everyone's ears and striking Su Lin's heart:
"There's no shame in crying, Su Lin. There's no shame in being afraid." His voice was calm, yet it held immense power. "But you must remember, tears can't drown your enemies, and fear can't drive away disaster. They will only blur your vision and tie your hands and feet."
He paused, looked around at his silent companions with different expressions, and finally his eyes fell on the soft black hair of the person in his arms, which was soaked with tears.
"You escaped once, but paid a price you could never bear. We fled before, fleeing from Blackrock Base to here like stray dogs." His tone was calm, almost cruel, dissecting the bloody reality. "But what was the result? The Guichen Cult, like hyenas smelling blood, pursued us and killed us all. Escape will only cause you to lose everything you cherish, until you have nothing left, until... there is no way to retreat, and you face the cold despair alone, just like you once did."
His words were like a cold scalpel, precisely cutting open the last trace of luck and fantasy.
"Anxiety and fear won't disappear just because you close your eyes and cover your ears," Lei Qing continued, tightening his arms around Su Lin, as if to pour all his strength and faith into the cold, trembling body in his arms. "They will only become like the most vicious parasitic vines, entwining themselves more and more tightly around your heart, draining away all your courage, hope, and strength. The only way is not to hide, but to face it. Pick up your knife and cut it off! Find the source of your fear, uproot it, and burn it to ashes!"
Su Lin stirred slightly in his embrace, lifting his tear-stained face. Those amber eyes, repeatedly washed by tears, were now red and swollen, like shattered stars. But strangely, behind that shattered, hazy light, something was being re-condensed and forged in the furnace of pain—something tempered by utter sorrow, harder and brighter. Tears still clung to his long, curled lashes, threatening to fall. The flames danced on those glittering tears, illuminating his pale, delicate features with a poignant and unparalleled beauty.
"I... I don't want to run away anymore..." Su Lin's voice still had a thick, painful nasal tone, but it no longer trembled. Instead, it revealed a determination to burn all bridges and cut off all retreats, like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath, a cold gleam flashing. "I don't want to wait until I lose... to regret it to pieces... Escaping... will only make the people I care about fall before your eyes one by one... Only by facing... only by completely solving them... can you eradicate the anxiety and fear that gnaws at your heart day and night! Only then can you... truly... live!"
His gaze passed over Lei Qing's broad, reliable shoulders, towards the dwindling pile of supplies that symbolized their dire situation. Finally, it slowly swept over the companions before him—the ones he had vowed to protect with everything, even his life. Those eyes, which had just been filled with tears, now burned with a cold flame, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
"We must fight back!" His voice was soft, but it carried bloody pain and unquestionable strength. Like the most solemn oath, every word was clearly engraved on everyone's heart. "To reclaim our right to survive! To... break this damned cycle of constant loss!"
The bonfire burned tirelessly, its orange glow gently illuminating the two embracing, and the solemn, yet ultimately resolute faces around them. The ghosts of the past watched silently, and the choice of survival lay before them in the cruelest form. Escape had been completely severed, and behind them lay the abyss. Only by moving forward, facing the deepest darkness, could they, with fire and blood, fight for themselves and each other, to forge a future no longer haunted by fear and despair, a future they must strive for.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
