Chapter Nine

Nightmare.

The nightmare returned once again. Ever since he lost his wife, Zhao Qiang had been haunted by the same scene, replaying endlessly in his dreams. He shot upright from the sofa, cold sweat beading his forehead. Glancing around, Zhao Qiang realized he was still in the SWAT office.

Where’s Wei Tao? Where did that guy disappear to again? Doesn’t he ever need to sleep? Zhao Qiang stretched his aching limbs, then rose to begin another day.

In the adjacent office, Li Zihan was still fast asleep, occasionally turning over and muttering something under her breath. Zhao Qiang took a look at the sleeping Li Zihan, quietly closed the door, and went off in search of any trace of Wei Tao.

Ten minutes later, Zhao Qiang finally found Wei Tao on the rooftop platform, looking for all the world like a snowman. The kid had probably stood guard all night again. Zhao Qiang walked over, and before he could get close, Wei Tao had already turned his head. Recognizing Zhao Qiang, Wei Tao shifted slightly, sending cascades of snow tumbling from his body.

“I’ll take over. You go rest,” Zhao Qiang said, taking the rifle from Wei Tao’s hands, only to realize it was a type 95 with an optical sight.

Wei Tao remained silent, shook the snow from his body, and left.

Zhao Qiang propped the rifle on the parapet. It was his first time handling a type 95 with a scope attached. Back in his days playing FPS shooters online, he’d always preferred sniper rifles. Although what he held now wasn’t truly a sniper’s weapon, the presence of the scope made his heart race with excitement.

The SWAT compound was wide open, devoid of any cover, the ground blanketed in white. It was easy to spot if any zombies breached the gate and entered the yard. A handful of zombies loitered at the main gate—even an ordinary retractable gate seemed an insurmountable barrier to them. If a few more showed up, they’d be in trouble. Observing all this through the scope, Zhao Qiang muttered quietly to himself. The gate shuddered under the zombies’ relentless battering, but the creatures, having lost their target, refused to leave. They’d followed the armored van here; even with their prey gone, they kept shuffling forward, not even turning away when they hit the gate.

If only I could shoot, Zhao Qiang thought helplessly, the crosshairs lining up with a zombie’s skull. But gunfire would only attract more zombies and send those at the gate into a frenzy. He forced down the urge to pull the trigger and kept watch.

Suddenly, Zhao Qiang noticed the zombies’ attention shifting. One by one, their heads turned toward the direction of the second ring road.

What’s going on? Zhao Qiang pulled his eye away from the scope and looked in the same direction as the zombies. His view was blocked by several houses and tall trees—he couldn’t see a thing. But faintly, he began to hear the sound of an engine, growing louder by the second.

Hastily, Zhao Qiang put away the gun and ran downstairs. Hearing his footsteps, Wei Tao sat up instantly. “Something’s happening!” Zhao Qiang gasped, then turned and rushed downstairs.

“Wait!” Wei Tao called after him. “What’s going on?”

“It looks like a car is coming. I don’t know who it is,” Zhao Qiang replied.

“Give me the type 95, you take your own weapon,” said Wei Tao, handing Zhao Qiang the type 81 and taking the 95 back. “Wait two minutes before you go downstairs. I’ll cover you from the roof.”

“Is it Brother Zhang and the others?” Li Zihan poked her head out of her room, sounding excited.

“I’m not sure yet. Stay in your room and do not come out,” Zhao Qiang cautioned. Not knowing what lay outside, he didn’t want Li Zihan risking herself too.

Awakened by Zhao Qiang’s hurried steps, Li Zihan had been about to go out and see what was happening when she overheard Zhao Qiang and Wei Tao. Anxiously, she immediately thought of Zhang Yongming and his group. It must be them! Even if Zhao Qiang didn’t say so, she could guess it—Brother Zhang must have returned. Pouting, she sat back down in her room, thinking, And he wanted to teach me how to use a gun! Now he won’t even let me go out when there’s a chance.

The visitor was indeed Zhang Yongming, who had gone to search for his family. That day, the police left the Tiger Group headquarters in a bus, debating how to find their loved ones. Someone suggested that they’d find them faster if they split up and then regrouped at the SWAT base. Driven by longing for their families, everyone agreed—even Zhang Yongming, who had misgivings but didn’t voice them.

Only after he got off the bus did Zhang Yongming realize how foolish splitting up was. Alone, with a single gun and a few dozen bullets, he was up against countless zombies—what could he possibly accomplish?

Seizing a moment when the zombies weren’t paying attention, Zhang Yongming slipped into a small convenience store and pulled down the metal shutter. The store was a converted residential house with doors front and back—the original main door now served as the back, while the former balcony had been opened up as a storefront.

Just as Zhang Yongming was congratulating himself on his first success, a zombie burst in from the back door. Swearing under his breath, Zhang Yongming raised his gun and blew the zombie’s head off. He recognized the zombie—it was the store’s owner, someone he’d become friendly with from buying cigarettes there daily. For the first time, someone he knew had fallen to his gun, and it left him uneasy.

He’d only wanted to hide out until dark and use the cover of night to sneak home past the roaming undead, but now he’d fired his weapon and revealed his presence—and at a familiar face, no less. Frustration gnawed at him. It wasn’t long before the sound of zombies howling and pounding on the metal shutter echoed outside.

That night, Zhang Yongming finally managed to slip back home. Three days felt like an eternity. Hearing the faint weeping inside, Zhang Yongming could scarcely believe he’d made it back alive. Opening the door, the familiar room brought tears to his eyes.

Clutching his wife, who was sobbing against him, and his son who had just eaten and fallen into a deep sleep, Zhang Yongming smiled with relief, silently vowing to protect them always. He too drifted into a deep sleep.

At dawn, Zhang Yongming bundled his wife and child into the car and sped toward the SWAT base.

Zhao Qiang watched as the private car slowed at the SWAT gate, then glanced up at Wei Tao on the roof. Through the scope, he could clearly see Zhang Yongming in the driver’s seat. Soon, a shot rang out. A zombie blocking the car dropped instantly, and a hand emerged from the window, flashing a thumbs-up.

Wei Tao’s gunshot was the signal—Zhao Qiang could open fire freely. Without hesitation, he raised the type 81 and began shooting. The zombies immediately fell into chaos, torn between chasing the moving car or the sharp crack of gunfire.

The gunshots proved more enticing. After a brief confusion, the zombies gave up on the car and lunged toward Zhao Qiang instead. There weren’t many of them, and after all Zhao Qiang had witnessed of Wei Tao’s skills, he no longer felt much fear, especially with Wei Tao providing cover.

It didn’t take long before dozens of zombies had their heads blown apart, littering the ground in a mess. With about ten left, Wei Tao’s cover fire ceased. Deprived of that support, Zhao Qiang suddenly felt the pressure mount, but the experience he’d gained in recent days allowed him to hold them off.

Before long, Wei Tao reappeared at Zhao Qiang’s side. In that brief absence, Zhao Qiang had managed to take down the remaining zombies.

“Next time you come over, give me a heads up!” Zhao Qiang said, shooting the last zombie. The sudden disappearance of cover fire had thrown him off, but realizing he’d taken care of them all gave him a thrill that drowned out any complaints.

“You still need more practice with your marksmanship,” Wei Tao said coolly, firing a quick shot at a zombie struggling to rise, nailing it back to the ground as black, viscous blood oozed from its head.

Seeing Zhang Yongming climb out of his car, Zhao Qiang and Wei Tao hurried over. Zhang Yongming, holding his five-year-old son, ran toward them, his wife Li Yun close behind, her face etched with worry.

“My son’s sick!” Zhang Yongming said anxiously. “He’s running a fever!”

Without another word, Wei Tao and Zhao Qiang turned and led the family swiftly to their temporary base. With utmost care, the panic-stricken Zhang Yongming laid his son on the soft sofa and draped his coat over the child.

He felt his son’s forehead. “It’s really high. My son needs a doctor!” his wife Li Yun cried out desperately.