Zhang Xiaoqiang realized what was going on. The half-pack of instant noodles he'd just eaten seemed to have been digested already, and he was even more hungry. He didn't look at the other packs of instant noodles on the desk. Instead, he drank a glass of water. For the past half-month since the crisis began, he woke up every day without thinking, wondering if his current life was just a dream. The noodles were gone, the eggs were gone, and there were three packets of instant noodles left—enough for two days at half a packet per meal, or one and a half packets a day. Before, he would eat two packets and two fried eggs in one sitting. He was too scared to eat the rice because he was afraid that he would be too weak to run away if he ate it.
He had tried to lose weight in the past, but he couldn't lose any weight. Now, he was watching his stomach shrink because he had lost at least five pounds. The thought made him laugh, then cry. He was usually carefree, but he worried about his sister, whose fate was unknown. In the last two weeks, he had been thinking a lot about the past. He thought about family reunions when both parents were alive, teachers from his school days, Ling'er, a classmate who had made his heart flutter for the first time, the mischievous little girl who had drawn turtles on his back, colleagues and friends from his old job, and even the girl who sold breakfast at the street corner. His sister's phone was off and no one answered the landline. It looked like things were going to get really bad, but he didn't want to give up. He kept hoping that something amazing would happen.
Outside the window, zombies still walked the streets below. Sometimes, people from the neighborhood were among them. The streets were filled with broken glass, torn clothing, scattered bones, and various types of trash. A bus was completely burned in the distance. He felt desolated. He imagined himself becoming a zombie, wandering without purpose, and starving to death. He imagined his friends and family turning into zombies and eating him alive. Desolation turned into despair. He walked to the kitchen, picked up a knife, and slowly put the blade against his neck. He closed his eyes and gripped the handle tightly until his wrist hurt from the pressure. But he couldn't bring himself to cut. He put the knife down, grabbed his head, and slid down the wall to the floor. Tears streamed down his face. He was afraid of death, so he didn't want to end his own life.
He felt useless—useless at studying, useless at work, and too cowardly to end his own life. As his mood calmed, he thought about how most people had turned into zombies, but he was still alive. Six billion people had been infected, and he was fine? Was this just fate? After thinking about it for a while, he felt a little better. He looked at his Tianwang watch. It was past 10 a.m. He had to go out and find food. He knew that if he didn't, he would starve to death. He would have to fight the zombies to the death to survive. He walked to the front hall, pulled back the curtains, and carefully tore away a small piece of newspaper that had been stuck to the windowpane half a month ago so he could peek outside. The small vegetable patch in the center of the platform yielded rows of lush, green cabbages that made his mouth water. He looked away from the cabbages and scanned the area. There weren't many zombies on the platform. The two households across from his had knocked through the shared wall to connect their balconies, creating a large enclosed space with the main door opening onto the platform. Now, with the door open, several zombies from each household were moving in and out. At the staircase entrance to the platform, one zombie was climbing up and down. There were a total of seven zombies: one at the staircase and six across from him. It would take about three minutes for them to cross over from the other side. His target was the cabbages in the middle of the platform.
Going barehanded against zombies was not an option. He needed weapons, but there were no weapons at home. He found various tools his dad had left behind. The first thing he saw was an eight-pound hammer. He picked it up to test it, shook his head, and decided it was too heavy. He wasn't strong enough to lift it. He could swing it a few times, but not much more. He kept searching. He found a hammer. I tested it, and the weight felt just right. He grabbed a metal pot lid from the kitchen to use as a shield. He practiced a few swings in the living room to get a feel for it, and then he decided he was ready. But at the door, he hesitated again. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled it, over and over. Finally, he thought, it's better to die fighting than to starve to death. Muttering, "If you die, you die. If you don't, you live forever," he said, opened the door, and stepped out.
Zhang Xiaoqiang planned to take out the zombie at the stairwell first because it was too close to the vegetable patch. He'd use the last minute before the zombies closed in to grab as much cabbage as possible. He wore high-top military boots, his father's woolen military coat, and thick leather gloves. He ran toward the stairwell before the zombie could come out. A zombie was climbing the stairs. When it smelled him, it lunged forward, claws extended. This was his first close encounter with a zombie. Its face was pale, its eyes rolled back, and its mouth was wide enough to swallow a fist. Its teeth were all blackened, each a miniature triangular scraper, cold to the bone. A strong, unpleasant smell hit him, making him want to vomit. The zombie hit him with his pot-lid shield, knocking him backward. His instincts, honed from past fights, took over. He moved his shield to the left and used his right foot to hit the other person's chest. The zombie fell down the stairs. Without stopping to think, he ran to the vegetable patch, dropped his shield, and grabbed a burlap sack. He picked up cabbages, mud, and everything else, and put them all into the bag. He looked at the zombie across the way. The zombie was slowly walking toward him. Faster. Even faster. Breathing heavily, he filled his bag with cabbages, his hands digging into the black soil as he pulled up the stems. Something splashed into his eyes. It was mud and vegetable juice. But he didn't feel anything. He just wanted to grab a few more. This was food for thought! The zombie was too close now. No more greed. He had to leave. He was holding the bag in one hand and his weapon in the other. He ran quickly toward home. He saw the stairwell entrance just ahead and sped up. He went into the stairwell and ran to his door.
Suddenly, the iron gate opposite his home swung open. His neighbor, who had become a zombie, lunged at him with a strong smell of decay. Its sharp claws came very close to his eyes. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He tried to scream, but he couldn't make any noise. He was thinking about two words: "It's over!"
He started to lose his balance and fell to the ground, dropping his shield. The zombie lunged at empty air. He was shocked, and kicked the zombie's leg hard. The zombie lost its balance and fell towards him. He moved out of the way, hitting the zombie again and again with his hammer. When he finally came to, the zombie's upper body was already completely torn apart. Black, sticky blood was everywhere, and the strong smell of decay was overwhelming.
The zombies on the platform were very close. Three strong men led the way, followed by three old women who had been changed by the mutagen. Their scent made them all excited. With prey this close, they were determined to catch it. He jumped up, not even taking the time to get his shield. He grabbed the bag and hurried into the house.
After locking the security door, he leaned against the iron gate and breathed out deeply. The smell of zombie blood on his clothes was too bad, so he hurried into the bathroom to change.
Zhang Xiaoqiang took the cabbages out of his pockets and put them on the floor tiles. There were eleven cabbages, and they weighed over twenty pounds.
Outside, the zombies clawed at the iron gate. For the first time, Zhang Xiaoqiang felt hopeful.