Chapter 67: Trouble That Won't Go Away

Surely everyone has experienced getting an injection—the fine needle piercing your flesh stings for a moment, but then it's over. To the enormous sandworm before Zhao Qiang, a 12.7mm bullet is no more threatening than a common needle is to a human; it smarts for an instant, but no matter how many times it’s pricked, it won’t be fatal.

This sandworm was originally an ordinary earthworm, mutated beyond recognition. Earthworms, those creatures that dwell in the soil, shunning daylight, feeding on dung and organic waste, swallowing both refuse and dirt together, their bodies segmented into more than a hundred rings, moving forward by muscular contractions—their muscles make up about forty percent of their body mass. Their mouths can turn outward to grasp food, their pharyngeal muscles powerful, expanding the throat cavity to aid in swallowing. Outside the pharynx are unicellular glands that secrete mucus and protease, moistening and partially digesting food. The pharynx leads to a short, slender esophagus, whose walls contain glands that secrete calcium to neutralize acids.

Once mutated, the earthworm’s size increased by billions of times, its functions vastly enhanced. Even its mouth sprouted rings of razor-sharp teeth. As it advanced, any zombies unfortunate enough to be struck by its massive body were flung aside, while others were swallowed whole by its terrifying maw, vanishing in an instant.

Ordinary bullets could not harm the sandworm; rather, they only enraged this simple-minded behemoth. A frenzied roar erupted from its vast jaws, a gale swirling with broken limbs and sand blasting Zhao Qiang in the face, leaving a sharp sting.

“Damn, that reeks!” Zhao Qiang cursed, though he did not cease firing.

“Switch to incendiary rounds!” Seeing that standard bullets were useless against the horrifying sandworm, Zhao Qiang shouted to Zou Lin. Flustered and panicked, Zou Lin couldn’t distinguish between regular bullets and incendiary armor-piercing rounds—she simply loaded whatever she could find, driving Zhao Qiang nearly mad with frustration.

Meng Longwei pulled the bewildered Zou Lin aside and rolled up his sleeves to take over himself. At last, rows of armor-piercing incendiary rounds were loaded. Though the caliber was unchanged, their effect was entirely different. The Type 89 armor-piercing incendiary tracer rounds and armor-piercing explosive incendiary rounds were all high-powered weapons, not just relying on kinetic energy to injure the enemy, but also causing devastation with their explosions and flames, inflicting severe damage on the sandworm.

Perhaps unable to withstand the searing fire, the sandworm roared again, twisted its head, and bored straight into the tunnel’s outer wall. The reinforced concrete and thick rock parted before it as if they were tofu, and with no pause, the sandworm burrowed in. Its massive body took a long time to vanish completely into the tunnel’s depths.

Zhao Qiang did not waste this opportunity; bullets poured forth as if they were free, explosions and fire making the sandworm’s entire body shudder. Yet even this failed to halt its advance. As a lower annelid, the earthworm possesses an almost miraculous regenerative ability—rumor has it that even if cut in two, each half soon grows into a complete worm. What harm could a few mere bullet wounds do?

Once the sandworm had vanished, Zhao Qiang slumped into his seat. Those few minutes felt longer than years. Under the monstrous oppression of the sandworm, cold sweat beaded on Zhao Qiang’s brow and his back was drenched.

“Did it escape?” Meng Longwei still gripped the bullets tightly, as if the battle were not yet over.

Zhao Qiang shook his head, slumping powerlessly in his seat. The monster before him had far surpassed his imagination—its enormous body, terrifying maw—without heavier weapons, humans were utterly insignificant before the sandworm. Zhao Qiang had thought zombie evolution peaked with the Crushers and Sages, and that only advanced organisms could become such monsters. But the appearance of the sandworm shattered all his prior understanding. Although bullets had wounded it, Zhao Qiang knew well that such attacks could never destroy it completely. If only they had a few RPGs. He recalled those scenes from games and movies—how Iraqi and Afghan fighters would fire RPGs recklessly. If only they had those now, perhaps the sandworm wouldn’t stand a chance.

The tremors from above grew ever stronger. Though the armored train was reversing at full speed, it could not pick up much pace. The tremendous rumble seemed to be right beside them; cement and clods rained from the tunnel ceiling, striking the train’s roof. The most terrifying enemy is the one you cannot see—now they all knew how deadly the foe was, but not when or where it would strike next.

“Hold on tight!” Zhao Qiang barely had time to shout before the sandworm’s colossal form burst from the left side of the carriage. Its tremendous inertia sent it almost soaring, its massive body scraping across the train’s roof before leaping over and boring a huge hole in the opposite tunnel wall as it vanished inside.

Debris hurled by the sandworm clattered thunderously against the armored train’s steel plates. The survivors onboard had already learned through the intercom that a formidable enemy was upon them, though none knew what it looked like. The violent shaking and noise threw the carriage into chaos and screaming.

“Everyone, move to the left side! Move to the left side!” Meng Longwei snatched the radio, shouting desperately. The armored train, battered by the sandworm, was beginning to tilt. If nothing was done, a derailment would mean certain death for all aboard.

There were four or five soldiers in each carriage, responsible for protecting the survivors. As trained soldiers, they were calmer than ordinary people. Amid the chaos, they obeyed Meng Longwei’s orders, and the panicked survivors soon realized that if the train rolled over, none would live. After the initial confusion, they gathered on the left side under the soldiers’ guidance, stabilizing the train.

After several sudden attacks by the sandworm, the armored train finally made it out through the nearest exit, surviving by the slimmest of margins. Underground was far too dangerous; no one knew when the sandworm might strike again, nor whether they would be so lucky next time.

Emerging from the subway, the armored train crashed through the surrounding barricades. At this point, who cared about public property? Anything in the way of escape was demolished.

“How is everyone? All carriages, report your status.” At last free from the perilous subway, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Their survival was more a matter of luck than skill. After putting some distance between themselves and the danger, Meng Longwei hurriedly used the intercom to check on the other carriages.

“Carriage Two reporting: all normal, everyone is safe.”

“Carriage Three reporting: one passenger lightly injured, treated and stable, all else normal.”

“Carriage Four reporting: roof damaged by an unknown object, several passengers lightly injured, all treated, otherwise normal.”

One by one, the carriages reported in.

“Carriage Ten reporting…” In fact, Carriage Ten was the last car, the engine compartment. Inside were only three soldiers—one driver, one gunner, and one assistant. Halfway through the report, the driver abruptly fell silent.

“Carriage Ten, what’s happening? Carriage Ten, respond!” Meng Longwei gripped the intercom, shouting frantically. Sensing something was wrong, Zhao Qiang immediately climbed up to the roof hatch. As he stuck his head out, a blood-curdling scream came through the radio: “Go! Go, now!”

Looking back, Zhao Qiang saw the sandworm had appeared less than a hundred meters behind the train, charging at full speed.