A-Qiang, Ting-Ting, and their team did not leave as planned two days later.
The reason: a man named Tang Songfa in their group suddenly fell seriously ill and could not travel.
The illness wasn't life-threatening, but it was agonizing—making it impossible for him to endure a bumpy car ride. After Ruowang's preliminary diagnosis, it was confirmed: perianal abscess!
An annoying condition where a large, hard boil suddenly appears near the anus, swelling rapidly. Pressing it causes excruciating pain—sitting or touching it is unbearable!
Tang Songfa, with his black-framed glasses and lean, scholarly appearance, was unexpectedly an avid outdoor enthusiast! Even more unexpected was developing such an embarrassing condition during their escape.
But awkward or not, he was sick and needed treatment. Hoping it would heal on its own wasn't an option.
We asked Ruowang what to do. He seemed hesitant. Though he was chief of internal medicine, he hadn't specialized in proctology. He could attempt surgery, but couldn't guarantee good results.
But compared to the rest of us, he was still the expert! Even if imperfect, he was still a doctor!
After some thought, Ruowang quietly pulled me aside. He knew someone who could perform the surgery—and she was still alive! We just needed to bring her here and arrange things.
"That's nothing! We've already brought you here—what's a few more doctors? Of course, I'm in." But Ruowang's secretive manner made me curious.
"She's my ex-girlfriend from college. She was too outstanding—it put pressure on me, so we broke up. But we're still friends. She studied many specialties, including proctology. Heh, she's always been better than me!" So that was it! I felt a pang of sadness for highly capable women—men felt pressured by their excellence? Was that even a reason?
None of that mattered now—fetching her was urgent! Dr. Ke'er lived near the hospital. After contacting her, she agreed immediately.
When we arrived at Dr. Ke'er's building, we found few zombies in her compound—likely because it was close to the hospital, and zombies, with their sensitive sense of smell, probably disliked the disinfectant odor.
After dealing with the zombies, we met Dr. Ke'er. So young! Though Ruowang said she was 29, she looked 22—truly youthful and pretty! No wrinkles on her fair face, and she wore no makeup.
"Does your compound have a surgical environment?" she asked right away. I was stumped—what was a "surgical environment"? Would an empty, warm room work?
"Sigh, apparently not. Then you'll have to come with me to the hospital." Dr. Ke'er spoke decisively—a strong woman! Patients must've both loved and feared her!
So we obediently followed her to the hospital.
We didn't bring everyone—just three vehicles and twelve people. I led the team, leaving my husband and A-Ze behind.
Hospitals were terrifying places. In my mind, it was best to avoid them for life—even if my mom worked there, I'd never, ever go!
"Enter the hospital, turn right, go to the main building. The operating rooms are on the 22nd floor. Everything we need is there." Dr. Ke'er was extremely calm. Probably because she was a medical student—she'd dissected countless corpses. Zombies were just moving corpses to her—of course she had immunity and could stay composed!
Doctors were something else!
A few zombies wandered the hospital grounds—some in white coats (former doctors), some in patient gowns (poor souls who never got discharged—now they never would).
"Hey, Dr. Ke'er, should we say hi to your colleagues?" Da-Peng, riding in our car, asked. This guy was always chatty, and seeing Dr. Ke'er was pretty, he was making small talk.
Without blinking, Dr. Ke'er said, "Sure, stop the car. You'll come with me?"
Da-Peng immediately chickened out. This was a hospital! Who wanted to chat here? Let's just get things done!
When we reached the main building, we realized: the whole hospital had lost power. The elevators weren't working. That meant… 22 floors! By stairs!
Wasn't this a death sentence? Climbing floor by floor would exhaust us before the zombies even got us.
"Dr. Ke'er, can you climb 22 floors?" I had to ask—in case she needed carrying after a few floors.
"No problem. I usually take the stairs to work—consider it exercise." Dr. Ke'er was hardcore—no, diligent! I was speechless.
"Surgeries can take hours. If you don't exercise regularly, your stamina won't hold up." Dr. Ke'er explained lightly. So that was why!
It seemed we were less fit than the slender Dr. Ke'er—or rather, less enduring! She had great stamina!
So, with Dr. Ke'er protected in the center, we fought our way into the hospital's main building.
The main hall had five or six zombies—one former doctor, the rest former patients. One even had an IV drip hanging from its neck—almost comical. After killing so many zombies, I wasn't as scared anymore.
"I'll handle this!" I hadn't used my long blade in days—my hands were itching. I drew it and swung it a few times.
"Are you a Japanese devil?" Dr. Ke'er suddenly asked. Dizzying!
"The blade is Japanese, but I'm Chinese—happy?" I rolled my eyes at Dr. Ke'er. This girl was a nationalist!
I charged at the nearest patient zombie. My blade drew a beautiful arc—the zombie's head flew off.
"Not bad, sis. Your blade skills rival my scalpel." Was she complimenting me or herself?
With a beauty present, the guys were eager to show off. They vied to kill the remaining zombies. Poor zombies—what had they done wrong? They were just wandering around when a group of lunatics charged in, slashing and hacking! From the zombies' perspective, weren't we the terrifying ones?
Dr. Ke'er smiled slightly—rare! "Not bad. You're not useless." Even if it was reluctant praise, we'd take it!
The hospital stairwell was spacious—very different from residential buildings. Business must've been good!
We were too careless and relaxed. We didn't expect the extreme danger ahead—we almost faced total wipeout!
I'd run a small company before. Back then, I most envied big hospitals—they were the city's best business! No need for advertising—customers came automatically, whether they wanted to or not! Lines formed at payment counters—a place where money was counted until hands cramped.
But experienced patients knew: specialists didn't work weekends. To see a director-level doctor, best wait until after Monday. So weekends had far fewer patients than weekdays. The day the virus spread happened to be a Sunday—thankfully!
Otherwise, trying to enter the hospital? Zombies might've crowded us out!
But a hospital was still a hospital. Outpatients might be few, but what about inpatients?
Floors 1 to 10 were outpatient and office areas. The stairwell had only scattered zombies—easily dealt with.
Above Floor 10 was the inpatient area. Dr. Ke'er whispered, "Many inpatients. Be careful."
Those who'd been to hospitals knew: doctors had dedicated elevators. Patients, due to health reasons, could only use elevators. Visitors, few diligent enough to take stairs, preferred cramming into elevators. So usually, besides occasionally encountering cleaners or people seeking quiet phone spots, the stairwell was empty.
The iron doors leading from the stairwell to patient corridors were thick—self-closing safety doors that were soundproof. Most transformed zombies were blocked in the patient areas by these doors. Low growls could be faintly heard. If undiscovered, we were relatively safe. But the doors opened outward—disadvantageous for us. Once discovered, zombies could easily charge out—unless someone had locked them from inside.
We lightened our steps, not daring to speak, sneaking past each safety door. Passing each floor, we nervously listened for sounds behind the doors. Low growls occasionally echoed—clearly, no living people remained in these patient areas. Otherwise, the zombies wouldn't be so quiet.
With living people present, zombies would be frenzied—clawing, jumping—never this calm.
After killing seven or eight zombies, we reached the 18th floor. Everyone was panting, strength gradually fading. In one word: tired!
19th floor—almost there! We gasped like oxen, sweat pouring. Running and killing—we were only flesh and blood!
The 19th floor was the oncology ward. We never expected so many people had cancer now!
Coming up from the 18th floor, I noticed the safety door on the 19th floor was slightly ajar—not fully closed! Something seemed jammed inside. My heart sank. I thought of having someone push it shut—don't let zombies inside escape!
After telling Qin Goodluck behind me, I took Dr. Ke'er up to the 20th-floor stairs. Qin Goodluck quietly approached the door. Bad luck! Before getting close, a zombie suddenly squeezed out—followed by several more!
Disaster! We were exposed! The zombies' roars attracted all zombies in the 19th-floor ward!
They'd already conquered cancer threats—now they were powerful and full of vitality!
Their ferocious rotten faces pressed toward us just as we were exhausted! I inwardly groaned!
There were at least twenty to thirty! Finished! Was I going to die here? For the first time, I deeply regretted not bringing everyone! Our always-outnumbering strategy was now completely reversed!
Seeing the horde, we mustered every ounce of energy, desperately killing the fearless enemies.
We split into two groups: one held off the zombie advance; the rest, including me, protected Dr. Ke'er and rushed upstairs.
Though I disliked the term "flee," it accurately described our disgraceful state.
Our legs were already weak from climbing. Under immense fear, latent strength surged through us! I gripped my long blade tightly, staying close to Dr. Ke'er. Dr. Ke'er's stamina was amazing! She ran swiftly—no less than us trained folks, even faster!
Thankfully, Floors 20 and 21 had few zombies! They were taken out as soon as they peeked out. We were almost at the 22nd floor! I felt a surge of excitement! But screams from below made my heart drop—someone was injured!
Only six people escorted Dr. Ke'er through the breakthrough. Most were holding off zombies. Could they escape alive? I didn't dare think further…