franphil Chapter 21 Broken Handle Sinks into the Abyss
Chapter 21 Broken Handle Sinks into the Abyss
The winch tightened for the fourth time. The chain clicked and the gears grinded. The bottom gap of the roller shutter widened, and dust fell from the lintel.
The shelf, which had been leaning against the inside of the door, lost its support and slid outwards. The metal wheels scraped against the concrete floor with a piercing screeching sound. Zhang Xun braced his shoulders against the shelf, pushed off with his feet, and leaned back, using his weight to plummet into the room. Qin Wei gripped the uprights, her knuckles white, and tried to pull them in the opposite direction.
"Hold on!" Zhang Xun hissed.
Shen Ye pulled out tent pegs and an ice axe from the bottom shelf. The triangular pegs, pointed outwards, were inserted at an angle into the holes in the shelf uprights. The ice axe's wooden handle was half-cracked, its tip pointing downwards, wedged into a gap in the shelf, creating a spiked array. She lit the welding torch and began welding the third diagonal brace—a steel pipe bracing the triangle between the shelf and the ground. The welding torch flame suddenly shrank, changing from blue-white to orange-yellow. The gas cylinder's residual pressure alarm went off, the pressure gauge needle plummeted into the red zone, and the hissing sound changed. She forced out the last two welds, sparks splattering onto her trouser leg, burning small holes. The weld was only enough to secure one side.
The winch tightened for the fifth time. The motor hummed in overload. The door was pulled off the ground, the bottom gap widening to half a person's height. Gray streetlights poured in like a slanted blade.
The infected poured in through the gaps in the floor. The first one to poke in, belly to the ground, fingernails digging into the cement seams, head first, got caught on an ice axe, the spike piercing below its collarbone. It kept arching forward, the wooden handle bending into an arc. Zhang Xun struck it from the side, hitting the back of the head with a dull thud, the skull caved in half an inch. Another blow, hitting the cervical spine, crack, the head tilted to one side. The baseball bat recoiled, reopening an old wound on the hand, blood seeping into the rubber grip.
The gap continued to widen. The door was pulled up even higher. The infected climbed over the first corpse. Zhang Xun swept his staff across the ear, and another lunged at him. He raised his knee to deflect it, then smashed the staff down onto the top of the head. A third grabbed his calf. Unable to break free, he knelt down and pressed his knee against the other's throat, striking its jaw with the staff handle until it stopped moving.
The single-sided steel pipe brace broke off. The pipe bounced to the ground, rolling with a clang. A nail flew through the air, stained with blood, grazing Qin Wei's ear and embedding itself half an inch into the wall panel, its end still trembling. Qin Wei froze. Lin Xiaotang gasped.
More infected people crawled in through the waist-high gap. One, biting a baseball bat, its teeth gnawed into the rubber casing, dragging Zhang Xun into the gap. His knees slammed into the ground, bones cracking, his right hand clenching tightly. Qin Wei grabbed an outdoor knife, slashed it into the side of his neck, wedging it into the intervertebral space, and pulled it out after a moment, blood splattering onto the shelf pillar.
Zhang Xun yanked over the second shelf on the left. Grabbing the upright with both hands, he twisted his waist, and the shelf crashed to the ground, scattering the canvas bags on the shelves. It lay sideways, forming a sloping obstacle. The infected slowed their ascent, their feet becoming entangled in the canvas, those behind stepping on those in front, piling up and flipping over. Zhang Xun struck each one with his club, hitting their temples, blood dripping from their chins to their chests, soaking their shirts. His work shirts clung to his skin, warm and sticky.
His hands stopped trembling. His knuckles were white, but steady.
Corpses were piled on the sloping planks, intestines spilling out from the ruptures and weighing down the canvas. The entrance was blocked by a wall of corpses. The infected behind were tripped by the corpses, their claws reaching in through the gaps, still scratching. Blood dripped from the shelves, drip, drip. Zhang Xun stared at that drop of blood, suddenly remembering that just three days ago, these shelves had held climbing ropes and sleeping mats. Qin Wei tugged at his arm, bringing him back to reality.
"We can't hold the front gate," Zhang Xun squeezed out through clenched teeth. "Prepare to turn to the back gate."
A thick, pungent stench hung in the air—a mixture of blood, burning vegetable oil, and the putrid stench of infected entrails, clinging to the nasal cavity and impossible to wash away.
Su Nian pushed herself up from a corner on the first floor with one leg. Left hand on the ground, right knee dangling in the air, using a bow handle as a crutch, she tried to move towards the front door. Her knee was swollen and shiny, and every step she took trembled. She moved two steps, but was left halfway, three meters from the front door, not yet in a fighting position.
"Qin Wei! Secure the first-aid kit! Su Nian, Bai Mo, can you walk? Lin Xiaotang, help Shen Ye!"
Shen Ye's voice was short and sharp: "The back door can be opened. But the SUV at the alley entrance is burned and collapsed. The wreckage is blocking the road, it's still hot, and the structure is unstable. It will take time to clear it."
---
5:26 a.m.
Inside the back door. The iron door was tightly shut. The bolts on the upper and lower hinges were rusted, their threads caked with reddish-brown iron filings. Shen Ye inserted the broken barrel of her welding torch into the hinge gap. The barrel was bent at a thirty-degree angle, its brass surface dented. She pried it off forcefully. The bolts made a scraping sound, the threads snapped, and reddish-brown iron filings fell in a flurry. Lin Xiaotang held the door with both hands, her knuckles pressed against the cold metal. The first bolt snapped off, bounced against the wall, and clanged. She pried the second one halfway, but the barrel bent another five degrees. Shen Ye braced the butt of the barrel against her shoulder, pressing down with her entire weight. The bolt, along with the rust, was pulled out, the door loosened outwards, and crashed down. Lin Xiaotang and Shen Ye pushed the fallen iron door aside, the metal scraping against the floor with a piercing, sharp sound.
The door slid open. A wave of residual heat rushed in. The air was stifling. Sweat evaporated almost instantly upon forming.
The wreckage of an SUV was blocking the rear door. The paint on the frame was bubbling and peeling, revealing oxidized, whitish metal underneath. The chassis beam was across the door sill, the rear wheels were stuck in the drain, and the body blocked the passage. Approaching it, one could feel the radiant heat on their skin; it was too hot to touch. There were fresh weld marks on the chassis beam and door sill—Hu Jiu'er's men had sealed the rear door beforehand.
Shen Ye picked up the welding torch, attempting to use the remaining gas to cut off the weld. She turned on the valve. Not a single flame came out. The gas cylinder was completely empty. She turned the valve all the way in, and there was only a hissing sound of leaking gas, which grew fainter and fainter until it stopped.
From the front door, behind the wall of corpses, came the rustling sound of infected people scratching at the canvas of the shelves, and the chains were still groaning.
Shen Ye turned and removed a steel pipe from the shelf. The threaded end still had bits of wood from the sheath. She inserted one end of the pipe under the SUV's front wheel, bracing it against the steering knuckle. Lin Xiaotang crouched down, holding the middle of the pipe. Qin Wei dragged over a wooden chair, placed it against the A-pillar, braced her hands against the chair back, and lowered her shoulders.
"Pry it open." Shen Ye said in a breathy voice.
With the combined effort of the three, the steel pipe pressed down, straining the steering knuckle and producing a metallic creak. The wheel rolled an inch off the edge of the ditch, and the car shifted to the side. The gravel on the ground was crushed, producing a soft, crackling sound.
Lin Xiaotang braced her right index and middle fingers between the steel pipe and the ground. The moment the car sank, the pipe crushed down. Dark purple blood gushed from under her fingernails. She didn't scream. Her jaw clenched, her cheeks puffed out. Her hand trembled violently when she pulled it out, unable to form a fist. She put her hands behind her back and used her left hand to steady herself on the doorframe, her knuckles white.
The car body shifted another foot to the side. The passage was now cleared.
Shen Ye still clutched the steel pipe in his hand, its shaft burning hot. Qin Wei tossed the chair aside. Lin Xiaotang leaned against the doorframe, her right hand hanging limply at her side, her fingertips still trembling.
---
The winch continued to pull. The gap in the roller shutter door widened to a meter. The shelves, spikes, and ice picks were filled with corpses, and the infected surged in, stepping over the bodies. Bones snapped as they stepped on them, making a cracking sound. Blood was squeezed out from the side of the pile of corpses, splattering.
Zhang Xun yanked over the third shelf on the left, leaving it lying across the gap between himself and the opening. The infected slowed down their movement as they climbed over or around it. He stood to the side of the shelf, his baseball bat striking the back of the head of one of the climbers. One. Then another. He entered a mechanical rhythm, his eyes fixed, unfocused. A crack appeared in the wooden handle of the bat, but he ignored it. With each strike, his wrist twisted, drawing blood from the tip of the bat.
Bai Mo picked up the bucket of vegetable oil from the counter and rolled it to Zhang Xun's feet. Zhang Xun stopped, picked up the bucket, and poured the oil onto the pile of corpses, the fallen shelves, and the ground in front of the gap. The oil spread, mixed with blood, seeped into the corpses' clothing, and split when it encountered the metal shelves.
He struck a matchbox from behind his waist. The phosphorescent surface scraped against the matchbox, making a rough, grinding sound. The flame struggled in the damp air, then flung itself toward the oily noodles.
Flames licked the oiled noodles, leaping up and then subsiding. There wasn't enough oil, just enough to burn one layer. Thick black smoke billowed in from the gap. The infected moved slowly through the smoke, their figures swaying in the thick smoke.
Bai Mo coughed uncontrollably, one cough after another, expelling air from his lungs. (Exposed location.)
An infected creature bypassed the wall of fire and lunged at them.
Zhang Xun swung his stick around. His left foot stepped into a pool of blood, the stickiness gripping the sole, causing him to lose his balance and slip. His left calf grazed the broken metal edge of the shelf, cutting a deep gash. Bleeding. He gritted his teeth and stood up; warm blood trickled down his trouser leg and into his shoe.
"It's open!" Shen Ye's shout came from the back door.
Bai Mo, leaning on his iron cane, went first. Lin Xiaotang followed with her backpack, her right hand injured and unable to exert much strength. The backpack strap caught on a nail in the door frame for a moment; she used her left hand to untangle it, pulling it free. Su Nian, using one leg as a crutch, shone with swelling as she moved towards the back door, her knee throbbing painfully with every step. Her crutch was unsteady, wobbling upon landing. She lagged behind. Qin Wei came to support her; their coordination was clumsy, and they moved slowly. Shen Ye waited at the door for them.
Zhang Xun circled around the edge of the fire and smashed an infected person who was coming around the flames from the side with his baseball bat. He then turned and rushed towards the back door.
He was the last to cross the threshold.
Almost simultaneously, the roller shutter door behind them burst open completely. The steel plate rolled inward into a spiral, and the rivets rattled against the wall. All the welds on the door frame broke, and the metal frame twisted and deformed.
---
5:34 a.m.
The back alley was narrow. High walls on both sides let in ashen sunlight. Gravel pebbles slid across the surface. The drain reeked.
The six men had just stepped out of the door. The air was thick with the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline, mixed with a faint odor of sulfur lingering on Shen Ye's welding torch. At one end, the infected man, fifteen meters away, approached with dragging steps. At the other end of the alley, two thugs emerged. The one on the right held a homemade crossbow, and the one on the left held a steel pipe.
The crossbow string was released. The arrow shaft grazed Zhang Xun's left shoulder, tearing the fabric and burning his skin. His left shoulder burned instantly, momentarily halting his movements. The arrow embedded itself in the wall behind him, its fletching trembling.
A thug lunged from the left. Zhang Xun blocked, but his baseball bat was caught in the steel pipe as it slammed down. The metal clicked together with a harsh sound. He pulled back, but the resistance pulled on his wrist, making his hand go numb. He twisted his wrist and broke free.
"Get into the crevice," Zhang Xun hissed.
Qin Wei supported Su Nian. Su Nian, using one leg as a support, jumped towards the right-side gap. The first jump landed with her left hand bracing against the wall, her right knee dangling in the air; the shockwave shot up from her joint, but she didn't stop. The second jump saw the bottom of the bow handle hit the concrete, the recoil traveling up her shin and down to her knee. On the third jump, her right knee grazed a raised concrete ridge, causing her to stiffen abruptly, her back taut, cold sweat instantly pouring from her forehead, trickling down her brow and into the corner of her eye. Qin Wei felt Su Nian's waist spasm in her arm, like a suddenly taut steel cable. Su Nian only paused for half a second, pushed Qin Wei's hand away, and continued jumping.
Lin Xiaotang grabbed Bai Mo's arm with her right hand. Her fingertips, bruised and bloodshot, offered no leverage, and the blood slid down from his elbow to his wrist. Bai Mo shifted his weight, his left knee slamming into the ground with a dull thud. His left foot landed firmly, the scab bursting open, blood seeping from the edge of the gauze and soaking into the sole of his shoe. She gritted her teeth and stood up, her feet sticking to the ground, each step making a wet, sticky scraping sound.
Shen Ye rushed into the narrow entrance first. Inside, a rusty water pipe lay horizontally, thirty centimeters off the ground, with cement bricks pressing down at both ends. She didn't move the pipe, but instead pushed the diagonally inserted shelf behind it half a foot deeper, tilting the shelf and narrowing the passage.
Two thugs rushed to the entrance.
Zhang Xun swept his stick out from the gap, the thug dodging to block. The stick tip grazed Zhang Xun's calf, causing him to stumble. Zhang Xun then swung his stick back. Zhang Xun sidestepped, his left shoulder stinging slightly. He was a fraction slower, but still managed to strike the thug's elbow with his stick. The stick flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground.
The crossbowman seized the opportunity to nock the bolt. Zhang Xun grabbed half a cement brick and hurled it at him. The rough surface of the brick struck the crossbowman's shoulder with a dull thud. The crossbowman lost his balance and fell backward, the bolt missing its mark and embedding itself in a crack in the wall.
At the other end of the alley, the infected person caught up, within five meters.
The thug on the left turned and ran, pulling out a walkie-talkie and shouting, "Ninth Sister! Back alley—" Before he could finish, an infected pursuer pounced on him from behind. The walkie-talkie fell to the ground, the button activating, producing intermittent static. The thug on the right ran deeper into the back alley, only to be grabbed by the ankle and dragged down by an infected. His ankle twisted, and the horde pounced, claws scratching his back, teeth digging into his carotid artery. Blood spurted a foot high. His screams were drowned out by a roar.
Zhang Xun seized the opportunity to step over the water pipe and enter the crevice.
He looked down at the baseball bat. The wooden handle was cracked from the grip to the middle, the fibers curled up, as if it could break at any moment.
A rusty water pipe lay across their backs, its ends weighed down by cement bricks. Outside the crevice, the screams of two thugs were drowned out by the roars of the horde of corpses. A walkie-talkie rolled on the ground, its static intermittent.
---
The infected person chased to the narrow entrance. He tripped over a water pipe, his ankle got stuck, his body leaned forward, his hands braced against the ground, and the back of his head was exposed.
Zhang Xun turned around inside the crevice, and the baseball bat slammed down. His head caved in.
Another one leaped over the water pipe and plunged in. Zhang Xun smashed it down with a stick, breaking its neck. The body piled up outside the entrance.
The third one pounced, and Zhang Xun swept it across the temple. The stick bounced back, and blood flowed down the sloping board.
The fourth one rolled over the pile of corpses. Zhang Xun raised his stick and smashed it down. The skull fractured and stuck the stick tip. He pulled it out, and black blood came out.
The fifth one pounced, and Zhang Xun dodged to the side. The club head pierced through his jaw, and the corpse was thrown up the ramp, slid down, and piled up at the entrance.
The sixth one leaped over, and Zhang Xun gripped the stick with both hands and slammed it down with all his might, striking the back of its head.
The wooden handle of the baseball bat snapped in two. The fibers tore, making a crisp sound. The crack expanded instantly, and the metal head flew off, crashing onto the concrete floor with a clang. Zhang Xun suddenly lost his grip, leaving only half of the broken handle in his palm.
Another one lunged. Zhang Xun used the broken handle to poke it; the sharp splinter aimed for the eye socket. The infected man raised his hand and grabbed his wrist; it was icy cold. The two struggled, the broken handle stopping an inch in front of the eye socket. Zhang Xun pushed with his shoulder, the infected man clawed at him; a stalemate ensued.
Deep within the crevice, Shen Ye lifted a cement brick that was pressing down on the water pipe and smashed it down. The brick spun in the narrow space, hitting the infected man's temple with a dull thud, his head tilting to one side. Zhang Xun seized the opportunity to poke him again, the broken wooden handle piercing his eye socket with resistance and a scraping sound.
The horde of corpses pushed and shoved, throwing bodies onto the top of the ramp and compacting them. The entrance was completely blocked by a wall of corpses. The infected behind were tripped up, their claws reaching in through the gaps and scratching at the ramp.
Squeezing through the narrow gap with her cane, Bai Mo squeezed sideways. The gap was narrower than shoulder-width. She inhaled, turned sideways, and the cane scraped against the wall with a soft rustling sound. Her left foot sank into the ground as she squeezed, blood seeping from the sole of her shoe and staining the floor. She didn't stop.
Su Nian was half-supported and half-pushed by Qin Wei on one leg. Her backpack got caught on a protruding piece of cement, and the shoulder strap tightened. She swayed for a moment while standing on one leg, then tugged and pulled away. Qin Wei supported her with her palm under her armpit.
Lin Xiaotang was in front, the rabbit doll's ears halfway out of the side pocket, swaying. She tried to shove them back in, but her right hand couldn't get enough strength, so she clumsily stuffed the ears back into the pocket with her left.
Zhang Xun turned and retreated deeper into the crevice. The wound on his left calf reopened, and warm blood flowed down his trouser leg. He looked down at the broken handle in his hand; the splinter was fresh, like a broken bone.
At the end of the crevice was a wall. The base of the wall had collapsed, leaving a gap half a person's height, with bricks scattered and broken glass embedded in the edge of the gap. The base of the wall exuded a damp, musty smell, mixed with the pungent, sweet stench of entrails flowing from the wall of corpses behind it, and dust kicked up by cement fragments, which choked my lungs, like having a mouthful of rusty dirt in my mouth.
Zhang Xun looked up and saw a familiar patch of red cross paint peeking out from above the wall—the back wall of the west wing of the community hospital. He recognized the wall; it was the spot where his left knee had scraped against broken glass when he climbed over it. Beyond the wall lay the community hospital's backyard, overgrown with weeds and abandoned stretchers.
Zhang Xun stood before the breach in the wall. He clutched a broken handle in his hand, the splinter of wood still fresh. Behind him, the narrow gap was sealed off by a wall of corpses; in front of him was that same wall. The same shards of glass. The same bricks. The same backyard. The old scar on his leg throbbed faintly beneath his trouser leg.
We've come full circle.
---
5:58 a.m.
Six people scaled the wall and landed in the backyard of the community hospital. The weeds were knee-high, their leaves serrated, glistening with dew that soaked their trousers. The air was thick with the cloying, stale smell of disinfectant, completely different from the bloody stench on the ground—it smelled of something that had been dead for a long time, seeping up from underground.
Shen Ye flipped first, landing silently with his welding torch held horizontally across his chest. Qin Wei helped Bai Mo through the gap; Bai Mo, leaning on his crutch, barely dared to push off with his left foot, practically rolling in. Lin Xiaotang followed suit, her rabbit doll sliding halfway out of her backpack's side pocket, which she tried to stuff back in with her left hand. With Qin Wei's assistance, Su Nian flipped, leaping off the wall with one leg, her right knee forced to bend in mid-air to bear the weight. Upon landing, her left leg touched the ground first, but her right knee still trembled. She let out a muffled groan, the sound squeezed out of her nose, short and sharp, like fragments bursting from between bones. Qin Wei supported her waist, her palm touching Su Nian's right calf muscles, which were spasming violently, as hard as stone. Su Nian pushed her hand away, bracing herself on one leg, her right knee trembling slightly.
Zhang Xun made the final climb. As he landed over the wall, the wound on his left calf throbbed violently inside his trouser leg. He knelt for half a second, his palms bracing against the ground, shards of glass embedded in his flesh. Shen Ye turned to look at him. He shook his head, bracing himself against the broken handle to stand up, glancing back at the gap outside—the crevice was sealed off by the wall of corpses; there were no pursuers.
The infected wandered around. Some wore security guard uniforms, some wore blue and white striped hospital gowns, and some wore gray work clothes. Hearing the sound of someone climbing over the wall and landing, they turned and rushed over.
The first arrow to pounce went straight for Su Nian. Su Nian knelt on one knee, her injured leg dangling in the air, the bottom of the bow shaft pressed against a crack in the ground. She pushed the bow with her left hand and pulled the string with her right, using the ground's reaction force to stabilize her trembling right knee. The arrow pierced the air, striking the eye socket. The arrowhead penetrated the skull, the fletching trembling. Five quivers remained in her quiver. She leaned against Qin Wei, whose arms encircled her waist, supporting her from falling.
Another one lunged at Lin Xiaotang. Zhang Xun charged out, the broken handle slamming down, the splinter embedding itself in her cervical spine. Crack. The corpse slammed into a pile of weeds, the grass stems bending and bouncing back.
The third one turned towards Shen Ye. Shen Ye picked up the broken welding torch, exhausted, and thrust the hard metal barrel towards the face, into the mouth. The teeth struck the barrel, making a crisp sound. The infected man leaned back, forced back. Zhang Xun, from the side, broke the handle and smashed it into his temple.
The sound of pickup truck engines echoed from the street. The low vibrations of diesel fuel. Two trucks. Tires crunched over gravel as they circled towards the main entrance of the community hospital. Headlights swept across the top of the backyard wall.
In the northwest corner of the backyard, there is a low bungalow with red brick walls and a tin roof that has collapsed on one side. The door faces north and is rusted to a dark red.
Shen Ye pointed the broken welding torch barrel at the bungalow, his voice hoarse: "That one. I lived there. There's a door downstairs. The hospital's air-raid shelter is below."
Zhang Xun caught a glimpse of the dents on her welding torch and suddenly understood—the steel plates, thin wires, and bare wires found in the hospital alley three days ago were all her doing. He didn't ask, switched the broken handle to his left hand, lightly touched the dagger at his waist with his right, and nodded, saying, "Let's go."
Six people entered the bungalow. The room was five square meters. They sat shoulder to shoulder, cramped. Piled up were broken radiators, rubber hoses broken into pieces, and an empty coal bin. The air smelled of coal ash, rust, and a cloying, nauseatingly sweet odor of stale disinfectant seeping from the ground.
Bai Mo dared not put his left foot on the ground, so his iron pipe crutch bore the entire weight. When it struck the cement floor, the hollow sound echoed throughout the room.
Shen Ye walked straight to the corner of the room, using the broken barrel of her welding torch to pry open the tattered canvas. The canvas tore, and ash fell in a cascade. Beneath the ash, a square cement outline was revealed, with half a rusty handle embedded in its edge. She tapped it with the barrel; the sound was hollow.
Lin Xiaotang followed, her left hand parting the seam of the canvas to reveal more rusty handles: "Here?"
Zhang Xun leaned against the wall and stood up. He looked at the silhouette, then at the morning light filtering through the crack in the door. The sound of the pickup truck engine grew closer.
"Get down. Quickly."
Zhang Xun stood beside the concrete outline, the broken handle still clutched in his hand, the wood shards stained with brain matter and coal dust. The low-frequency vibrations of the pickup truck engine outside the door caused the ground to tremble slightly.
---
6:17 a.m.
The six people climbed down the angle iron ladder one by one. Lin Xiaotang followed behind Shen Ye. Her right hand reached for the angle iron cross brace, her fingertips bruised and her grip weak. The rust grazed her palm, and her knuckles slipped. She stepped down one step, and as soon as her left hand loosened its grip, her right hand lost its strength, and her body suddenly fell backward into the darkness. The backpack strap tightened around her throat, and she stopped breathing instantly. She didn't scream, only letting out a short, sharp breath.
A hand reached out from below, supporting her lower back. Shen Ye's muffled voice rose from the darkness: "Hold on tight with your left hand. Use your right hand only for support, don't bear any weight."
Lin Xiaotang stepped down again. Her left hand's five fingers gripped the groove of the angle iron, her knuckles turning white; her right hand rested loosely on the side of the ladder, no longer gripping it. She stepped down step by step, and when the water reached above her ankles, her right hand hung at her side, her fingertips still trembling, water droplets dripping from the purplish-black bruises along the edge of her nails into the darkness.
Su Nian descended the shaft on one leg, gripping the angle iron with her left hand, her right knee dangling in the air, too afraid to bend. With each step, she shifted her entire weight down her left shoulder, her right knee lightly tapping against the step in mid-air. With each tap, a faint whisper escaped her lips, extremely soft, but Zhang Xun above her could hear it clearly. Reaching the seventh step, she stopped, her forehead pressed against the damp wall, catching her breath for two seconds before stepping back into the puddles.
Rust rubbed against my palm, the puddles were slippery, and the metal vibrated with every step. Below was darkness. The passage was flooded up to my ankles, the walls were damp and covered in black mold, and the air smelled sweet and pungent. The metallic stench mixed with the damp, earthy smell of mold rose from the puddles, completely different from the bloody smell on the ground—this was the unique, long-dead smell of the hospital's underground.
Zhang Xun was the last to climb down.
Footsteps echoed from above the shaft. A hand wearing construction gloves lifted the cover, letting in sunlight. The infected man lunged at the thug from behind, biting the back of his neck, his teeth clamping down, exposing his cervical vertebrae. The thug screamed and fell into the shaft, his body slamming against the angle iron ladder with a crash, then plunging into the water. Water splashed up, and blood gushed from his carotid artery, spreading across the surface.
The infected man fell off and straddled the thug's hand, continuing to bite. Zhang Xun used the broken handle to stab into the man's eye socket; the wood splinter entered the eye socket, creating resistance, and the body tilted into the stagnant water.
The thug lay in the puddles, bleeding from his carotid artery, still breathing. His hand reached towards Zhang Xun, his fingers scratching at the water's surface. Qin Wei squatted down, pressed two fingers against the thug's neck, and then examined his pupils. Her fingers pried open his eyelids; his pupils dilated rapidly, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. Qin Wei shook her head, withdrew her hand, and wiped it on her trouser leg.
Zhang Xun pulled down the waterproof cloth above, covering the edge of the cover plate, and then closed the door. The iron door locked into the frame. The team left and continued on their way.
After walking about fifty meters, the passage narrowed, allowing only one person to pass at a time. A rushing sound came from the puddles behind. Turning around, the thug was already standing, his joints twisted, his eyes cloudy, water dripping from his body. He was chasing after them along the passage, about fifteen meters away.
The passage was narrow, leaving no way around it. Zhang Xun stepped forward, plunging the broken handle into the victim's eye socket. The eyeball ruptured, fluid splattered, and the body fell back into the stagnant water. The water surface rippled.
Qin Wei stared at the floating corpse, her voice strained: "From falling into the well to transformation... less than two minutes."
The six men stopped. Silence. Zhang Xun's hand froze on the spot, staring at the corpse. Qin Wei stood beside him, her fingers still unconsciously rubbing the spot on her trouser leg where she had just wiped the thug's blood.
Zhang Xun returned to the shaft, tucked the dust cover back in through the edge, and sealed it tightly. A dull echo followed. The team continued forward.
Ahead lay a rusted steel airtight door, its gaps clogged with concrete debris. Shen Ye inserted the broken barrel of a welding torch into the gap, and Zhang Xun, working together, pried it open with tremendous force. Their muscles trembled, and the hinges creaked as the door opened a crack. Water rushed in, flowing rapidly. Inside was a wider main passageway in the air-raid shelter, the water reaching up to their calves.
In the flooded tunnel, beneath the floating oil slick lay a bloated infected person, their skin pale, their ankle entangled in a rusty pipe support. Zhang Xun nearly stepped on it, narrowly avoiding it.
Deeper underwater, a half-decomposed infected creature gripped Lin Xiaotang's ankle with tremendous force, causing half of her skin to peel off. Lin Xiaotang screamed, and Shen Ye smashed it down with a welding torch, crushing her finger with a cracking sound. The severed finger floated on the surface. Zhang Xun knelt in the floodwater, the broken handle of the torch plunging diagonally into her eye socket. Half-decomposed brain matter mixed with black water gushed out, and it took him a couple of tries to pull the handle out.
A second steel-framed airtight door appeared ahead, impossible to open. Behind the door were precast reinforced concrete slabs used for wartime sealing, poured and sealed from the inside. Cement had hardened into gray nodules along the edges of the door seams, with a rough surface. Qin Wei touched the hardened cement texture: "This isn't old cement; these nodules are still fresh."
The group was forced to retreat back to the connecting passage and choose a new route. Zhang Xun's wound on his left calf turned white from being soaked in the sewage.
The six men stopped to catch their breath. The crackling sound of burning buildings came from above, muffled and carried through the thick earth, occasionally punctuated by the sharp clang of collapsing metal.
No one spoke. Six people stood in the puddle, covered in blood, sewage, and sweat. Their breathing overlapped in different rhythms in the passageway: Zhang Xun's was heavy, Su Nian's was trembling, Lin Xiaotang was trying her best to suppress it, and Bai Mo was almost silent. The rabbit doll's ears peeked out from the side pocket of Lin Xiaotang's backpack, swaying slightly in the cold wind of the passageway.
Zhang Xun turned and walked deeper into the passage. Ahead, a faint green emergency light flickered in the darkness. He spoke, his voice hoarse: "Let's go. Get out of the passage before dawn."
The six followed in turn. Behind them, only the sound of dripping water remained; in the distance, the muffled thud of collapsing floors seeped through the concrete cracks, and the vibrations traveled through the groundwater to their feet. The way they had come was gone.
Zhang Xun walked at the front. He looked down, the broken handle still clutched in his hand, the splinter stained with brain matter, coal ash, and black mold from the stagnant water. He wanted to throw it away, but his fingers gripped it even tighter. The black liquid from the splinter was flung into the stagnant water, making a very faint splash. Ahead lay the unknown, behind him, collapse. He lifted his foot toward the green light, the crack in the broken handle piercing his palm, the pain bringing him back to his senses.
[End of Chapter]