Chapter 82: Bitter Perseverance in the Face of Desperation

Time passed slowly, drop by drop. Du Yun and the Boss stood side by side at the window, neither uttering a word. In the dark night, only the occasional flashes of energy beams could be seen attacking the crimson dots in the gloom, taking away a zombie that threatened their lives. Apart from that, there was not a sound.

Du Yun inventoried all the food in her storage compartment. There was enough ready-to-eat food for everyone to last three days, and if she could cook the stored grains and cornmeal, they’d have enough to feed everyone for half a month.

That was reassuring. Du Yun felt a measure of peace—so long as they held on for seven days, the small starship would arrive. But how to survive those seven days in safety? To be honest, Du Yun had no confidence at all. She glanced at the Boss; in this deadlock, he remained so calm that Du Yun felt she finally had someone she could rely on.

“Eat something,” she said, taking two loaves of bread, a can of food, and two gourds of water from her storage and placing them before the Boss.

“You—” The Boss hesitated, wanting to ask about the supplies Du Yun carried, but couldn’t find the right words. He knew she had psychic abilities, able not only to detect zombies but also to store things out of thin air. He hadn’t expected her, on this journey, to clear out an armory, a transfer warehouse, and even the old general store. If the Boss’s own load was already a heavy burden at a hundred pounds, Du Yun was carrying over a ton—how did she manage it?

“What about me?” Du Yun’s clear eyes met his. She knew what he wanted to ask, but couldn’t explain it, so she spoke of other things. “I have more than half my weapons left. There’s enough food for all of us for half a month. Water is short, just enough for four people.”

“That’s enough.” The Boss’s gaze flickered; he didn’t touch the food Du Yun had brought out. Instead, he reached out and pulled her gently into his arms, kissing her forehead softly. “That’s enough.”

While Du Yun slept, under the Boss’s direction, the little building became orderly. The people inside kept to the division of three teams: one for defense, one for vigilance, one for rest. Since they had to endure for a long time, shifts rotated every four hours.

As for food, the Boss didn’t insist on redistribution—it would be unfair to those who contributed more. It was only the first day; everyone still had something to eat, and no one objected. Instead, each person quietly reduced their portions, hoping to stretch their supplies longer.

But the issue of drinking water remained. Perhaps because the walkway had been blown apart, the pipes in the building had run dry. The water people carried would last a day or two at best; any longer and it would run out. Water became, apart from the endless stream of zombies outside, the greatest threat to their lives.

The second day arrived quickly. When it was the Boss and Du Yun’s turn to stand watch, they headed to the rooftop, replacing the bloodshot-eyed Strongman and Skinny Monkey, and manned the machine gun, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.

Only then did Du Yun realize, after a night’s ordeal, the area around the building was drenched in blood. Zombie bodies lay piled in a ring, a meter high, within fifty meters of the building, crossed and tangled, exuding a heavy stench of blood, like a scene from hell.

“Are you all right?” Even the Boss, accustomed to corpses, felt his scalp prickling at the sight—let alone Du Yun. After spraying a hail of bullets at zombies climbing over the corpse wall, he turned to her during a brief lull.

“I’m fine,” Du Yun forced herself not to retch, answering quietly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to say more, but she wasn’t sure she could keep from vomiting if she did.

Du Yun’s sense of smell was acute; even the faintest fishiness in food wouldn’t escape her. Now, in this infernal scene, the thick, almost tangible stench of blood threatened to suffocate her. How could she possibly be all right?

But it was a matter of life and death; there was no room for weakness. If she let her guard down, she and everyone in the building would be torn to shreds by the charging zombies—their fate would be worse than those lying dead on the ground.

Seeing Du Yun’s struggle, the Boss turned silently away. His only respite was a scant few seconds; after a round of gunfire, the zombies would hesitate, but soon regroup and charge again. Surviving mattered above all else.

After the next wave of zombies was beaten back, the Boss rummaged in his backpack and handed Du Yun something. She took a quick look—it was a half-face mask. She smiled at him and put it on.

With the mask, the nauseating stench faded; Du Yun felt as if her heart were soaked in warm water, soft and comforted.

The sun rose. With no clouds to shield them, the burning rays scorched the earth, the zombies below, and the two atop the building. The air grew ever more foul—not just with the stench of blood, but the reek of flesh roasted by the sun, making it hard to breathe. Fortunately, Du Yun wore the Boss’s gas mask; without it, her sensitivity would have made her vomit up her dinner from the night before.

At least the rooftop offered some shade. Otherwise, Du Yun felt she’d be cooked like fish on a hot iron plate, crisp outside and tender within.

The air was thick with blood and an indefinable, strange odor. The salty, damp sea breeze brought no relief from the heat, only made everyone feel sticky and uncomfortable.

After the four-hour shift, Du Yun was soaked through. What she wanted most was a hot shower—but water was the greatest problem they faced.

There was no water in the building; even Du Yun could do nothing. She’d searched every room marked on the map that Dou Zhi had given her, but found nothing. This left her frustrated.

“Don’t worry. Things will get better,” the Boss said, gently tugging her hand and giving her a tender smile. Du Yun’s anxious heart slowly steadied.

“Yes, things will get better.”