Zhang Xiaoqiang sat on the floor, breathing heavily. One leg was stretched out in front of him, and the other was bent upward. A 1.6-meter-long iron spear was leaning against his foot. Its triangular tip was pointing backward toward the security door. It was covered in ancient, black, foul-smelling bloodstains. The green security door, which was brand new, swung open, leaving a 10-centimeter gap. From his seat, he could see several dead bodies lying still on the ground past the door.
Twenty days ago, they were still human. Now they're lying there like zombies. "I killed them!" He wasn't afraid after the killing; he felt excited and proud.
"I did it!" Zhang Xiaoqiang told himself.
"I can survive. I will keep living."
After resting for five or six minutes, Zhang Xiaqiang picked up his iron spear and stood up. He untied the thin hemp rope from the doorknob and pushed outward, but the zombie corpses outside blocked the door completely.
Zhang Xiaqiang used his iron spear to push the bodies aside and then stepped outside. He looked around. Seven dead bodies lay scattered in the hallway. There was hardly any space to walk. The zombie he'd killed five days ago lay face-up at his feet, its skull crushed. Dark blood and yellowed brain matter were splattered everywhere.
Zhang Xiaqiang felt sick to his stomach when he saw it, and he didn't want to look again because he was afraid he would be sick.
He stood on top of the pile of dead bodies and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The strong smell of decay was so strong that even his perfume-covered scarf couldn't hide it.
Zhang Xiaoqiang found the pot lid shield he'd lost five days earlier. Holding it made him feel confident. It couldn't protect against blades or bullets, but it could block a zombie's claws.
He pushed the iron door opposite his own open. The room was completely dark, and it felt cold. He carefully walked into the living room that was across the hall. The white floor reflected his dark shape in the dark light, making him feel very cold.
Zhang Xiaoqiang found the living room's power switch and turned on the ceiling light. He only started to feel a little better when he got there.
His target was the kitchen. He was too scared to go into the bedrooms because he knew that if a zombie bit him, it would be very bad.
He slowly walked toward the kitchen. Searching through someone else's home felt unsettling. Zhang Xiaoqiang was a thief. He had never broken into a house before, but the apocalypse had changed that.
He made his way closer quietly.
"@#%..."
Zhang Xiaoqiang heard something scratching at the kitchen door. His heart clenched—he had feared this! Couldn't he just relax for a moment?
"Damn it!"
Zhang Xiaoqiang said an angry word under his breath, holding the pot lid tightly in front of him. With three fingers of his right hand gripping the rifle barrel and his thumb and index finger holding the doorknob, he turned it gently before yanking it open with a sudden jerk.
A dark figure quickly left the kitchen. Zhang Xiaoqiang held the shield in front of him with his left hand while holding the iron rifle in his right. He was ready to attack the shadow at any moment.
When I looked more closely, I saw that it was the neighbor's fat cat. The cat with the spotty fur looked at him before running out the door.
The cat had made his heart beat very fast.
"It's better to run into a cat than a zombie," Zhang Xiaqiang told himself as he stepped into the kitchen.
The dining table, which was made of faux rosewood, was covered in a thin layer of dust. It also had paw prints on it that looked like plum blossoms. The paw prints were all over the table, but in scattered spots.
Zhang Xiaqiang opened the refrigerator. The vegetables inside had been stored too long and were no longer fresh, but he stuffed them into his pockets without hesitation. He cleared out the upper shelf of vegetables and eggs and the lower freezer compartment of fish and pork. He also found half a bucket of rice, a jar of pickled vegetables, a bag of sugar, and other seasonings scattered around the kitchen. Zhang Xiaqiang had to go to the kitchen two times to get everything out.
He looked at the food in the living room and felt like something was missing. Then he remembered the liquor cabinet tucked away in the corner by the TV in the living room across the hall. Zhang Xiaoqiang hurriedly brought all the cigarettes and alcohol back.
Looking at the dead body outside the door, he knew he had to find a way to get rid of it somewhere far away—it was simply too smelly. Zhang Xiaqiang went outside to look for a place to hide the body. He saw the small vegetable patch in the center of the platform, which was still producing over thirty large cabbages. Now, they were there whenever he needed them. The desperate scene from five days ago felt like it had happened just yesterday.
"Damn it! This damn virus, this damn world."
He started talking about the end of the world more and more after it happened.
The cabbages wouldn't grow legs and run away, so he decided not to worry about them for now. He went to the stairwell to check on the zombie he'd kicked downstairs. Ever since he was attacked by the neighbor's zombie, he's been very careful whenever he goes outside. He slowly walked towards the stairwell and looked down. On the lower steps, a zombie without legs crawled along the floor. Its clothes were in bad shape and hanging on it by a thread. All of a sudden, it caught a whiff of Zhang Xiaqiang's scent and started crawling toward him.
Zhang Xiaqiang crouched on the landing, watching it inch upward. It was excited by the scent of fresh human flesh, so it opened its huge mouth full of sharp teeth. Its claws scraped deep gouges into the concrete steps.
A triangular bayonet pierced its nose and went into its brain. He twisted the blade from left to right and pulled it out. The zombie stopped moving. There was a hole in its face, big enough for a coffee cup to fit, and black blood was coming out of it.
Zhang Xiaoqiang was starting to get used to killing zombies. It was like when he used to squat in a corner and kill ants when he was a kid. The excitement and fear were gone. He just had a blank expression. He knew he couldn't kill all 6 billion zombies in the world, so he decided to focus on the ones that were a threat to him.
Below the staircase was a garden. The cold weather in January had made the plants look dead. Some grapevines, over twenty years old, were still holding on to their leaves. The grass had turned yellow. Three concrete buildings, built from precast slabs, served as a place for the elderly residents of the surrounding seven buildings to relax. The garden was usually full of people, but now there were over thirty zombies in it. The closest one was more than forty meters away. He had seen it show no reaction, so he realized that the minimum safe distance from a zombie was at least forty meters.
The small store downstairs sold cigarettes, alcohol, snacks, rice, and eggs. But he didn't dare go looking for food yet—he'd have to pass through over thirty zombies!
On the second-floor landing was a garbage chute where waste from both buildings was normally dumped. Zhang Xiaoqiang threw seven dead bodies down it. He was sweating a lot from the effort! That was taken care of. He didn't care about the bodies on the staircase steps. They were far from his door, and the bad smell wouldn't reach him.
He stopped, seeing that the lights were still on in two apartments across the landing. Zombies were probably on the floors of both wings, and he couldn't pick the locks on the doors. He fixed the hardening, took hold of his shield and iron spear, and started walking toward them.
Zhang Xiaoqiang locked the security door when he got home. There was a bag sitting by the entrance. A bulging backpack and a stuffed burlap sack—these were the things he had just taken from the platform across the way. He hadn't encountered any zombies; the six he'd killed must have been the entire family. With a cheerful drag, he pulled the two large bags over to the sofa, ready to count today's catch.