Fear serves to warn of danger, yet it is inherently perilous.
It strips humanity of reason, prompting people to suppress it, only for it to rebound relentlessly, like a coiled spring.
The three-wheeled vehicle whined as it lumbered forward.
The uneven road made its frame shudder, producing a considerable racket.
Beyond the glass window, the town at night appeared steeped in ink.
It was only after a turn, when a sliver of moonlight pierced through from some unseen direction, that the outlines of houses began to emerge.
No zombies ambled along this stretch of road.
Yet, Jing Lan felt even more unsettled, suddenly realizing how unaccustomed he was to being immersed in such pervasive uncertainty.
Recalling his earlier feat of commandeering a plane to enter the city and rescue his cousin, a faint, lingering dread now crept into his mind.
He covertly glanced at Little Ye, who was huddled in a corner of the vehicle’s compartment, her long hair obscuring half her face, making her expression unreadable.
Leaning closer, he nudged her arm with his elbow.
She turned her face towards him with a barely perceptible movement.
“What’s wrong?” the girl inquired.
“I think I’m a little scared,” Jing Lan confessed.
“I thought that after all the chaos just now, I would have grown accustomed to living in this kind of world—”
“Isn’t that the case?”
“No, it’s not.
I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about Ling Yechen… the band’s drummer, I told you, he was right beside me… I, at the time, seemed to grit my teeth and accept the reality.
But just now, as I tried to calm myself, memories of him surged back like a relentless tide of rumination, and I realized I was terrified by the images of those zombies in my own recollections.”
Jing Lan actually longed for his companion to offer some reassurance, perhaps a simple “It’s alright.”
This was, perhaps, an understandable attempt to subtly coax some impromptu psychological counseling from her.
Little Ye, however, seemed lost in thought, offering no immediate response.
“They’re just sick people; there’s nothing to be afraid of,” a voice interjected.
The old woman driving had surprisingly keen hearing, having evidently overheard her passenger’s words.
“Anyway, what’s happened has happened; it was all meant to be,” the old woman mumbled, surely accustomed to chatting casually with her customers during peacetime.
‘Whatever is actual is rational’ – Jing Lan recalled Hegel’s famous dictum.
Little Ye, with a somewhat distant look, echoed the old woman’s words:
“It was all… meant to be?”
With a jarring clang, the three-wheeled vehicle screeched to a halt, its frame groaning in protest.
A slightly dozing Kong Cheng jolted awake, his head smacking against the compartment’s glass window.
Responding to the impact were several grotesque faces, plastered against the glass like white paper cutouts.
With a collective widening of eyes, everyone instantly understood that zombies had pressed themselves against the vehicle.
Immediately afterward, the three-wheeled vehicle seemed to strike something with a loud thump, and the old woman began to curse, “Watch where you’re going!”
While this was a remark typically directed at humans, the response they received was not human speech, but an eerie, guttural roar.
The group was long accustomed to the cacophony of zombies, but this sound was distinctly different.
If one were to describe it, previous zombie roars resembled a person hoarsely raging in impotent fury over a plummeting stock, whereas the monster’s cry from ahead now sounded like an animalistic throat imbued with a hint of human timbre, emitting a “ga-gurgle~ ga-gurgle~” call.
“I’m a living person!” the old woman bellowed, poking her head out.
Jing Lan paused, then realized with a start that the old woman had likely misheard the cry as “Who’s there?”, mistaking it for a passerby inquiring about her identity.
Truly, anyone driving a vehicle would undeniably be alive; did she really imagine there were zombie sled-drivers?
What was certain, however, was that the entity in front of the vehicle was absolutely not a passerby asking “Who’s there?”
Although the tricycle’s dim headlights couldn’t illuminate the creature’s full form, its eyes distinctly reflected the light.
And those eyes…
They were horrifyingly far apart.
“Ma! Don’t mind it! Drive!”
His shout came a beat too late.
The creature abruptly ceased its cries, then burst into the headlights’ beam.
As its form was illuminated by the headlights, the three occupants of the tricycle’s compartment gasped in unison.
What kind of face was it?
Upon its pallid skin, resembling flesh long submerged, sinewy black lines, like engorged veins, crisscrossed.
The thickest of these black lines stood vertically in the center of its face—upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a line at all, but a gaping fissure.
The upright monster’s body still bore faint traces of human clothing, but these were largely shredded and mangled by numerous rib-like structures that writhed incessantly, resembling the dense legs of centipedes or millipedes.
Its head was a quivering, nauseating horror, split down the middle yet with its jaw largely intact, forming three distinct, trembling segments.
The fissure dividing its face bore a disturbing resemblance to a Mercedes-Benz logo.
The individuals present were certainly no strangers to alien horror films or the Cthulhu Mythos.
Yet, fictional horrors could never prepare humanity to directly overcome such terror.
For once the mind grappled with the immediate threat to life and death, one’s entire being would instantly default to a primal, instinct-driven course of action.
The old woman driving immediately tumbled out of the vehicle and fled.
The split-headed monster, however, approached with terrifying speed, its arms bristling with spikes like a cycad tree, instantly seizing the old woman’s head.
Then, with a powerful yank.
Blood splattered across the compartment’s glass, painting a gruesome, radiating pattern.
On the tricycle’s front, which had been twisted askew by the monster’s impact, the headlights illuminated the creature from the side—revealing half of the old woman’s spinal column, still connected to her severed head, protruding from the monster’s mouth, a face split into three lobes and eerily reminiscent of an insect’s mandibles.
The old woman’s body, from the chest and back upwards, had vanished, her floral red blouse now soaked a deep crimson.
On the monster’s split face, its widely separated eye-sockets held prominent eyeballs that swiveled, focusing on the three individuals in the compartment.
Lining up a three-point aim on its head, Jing Lan squeezed the trigger, his AK spitting fire.
The bullets first shattered the compartment’s glass, then blew the monster’s head clean off—the power of the M43 rifle rounds was enough to tear through bone and flesh.
Yet, the monster did not immediately fall silent; its short tentacles writhed wildly across its body, and its legs continued to stride forward.
“Get out!”
Jing Lan scrambled out of the shattered compartment on the opposite side, continuing to fire at the monster’s heart.
This seemed effective, as copious black blood welled out.
Kong Cheng also drew his P22.
Though his entire body trembled uncontrollably, making him practically tumble out of the compartment due to his unsteady footing, the P22, firing small .22lr rounds, was almost a pistol designed for women, generally manageable with a rough aim.
Thus, he still managed to fire wildly, hitting the monster’s belly twice.
Black blood gushed from the small bullet holes, and a continuous “ga-ga-ga” rattled in the monster’s throat.
It appeared to be experiencing pain.
However, a headshot failing to deliver an instant kill was terrifying enough.
Jing Lan’s mind went blank; this situation far exceeded his expectations, leaving him utterly flustered, with only the thought of escape dominating his thoughts.
He involuntarily ran over ten meters before suddenly realizing something was amiss.
Kong Cheng was right behind him, but Little Ye…
She was kneeling in the compartment, her face buried in her hands.
The monster’s head was gone.
Yet, its body, with its trembling short tentacles, suddenly opened a gaping, crimson maw in its abdomen.
Its shape somewhat resembled a Venus flytrap from *Plants vs. Zombies*, revealing a dense mass of fleshy, rope-like organs resembling intestines.
A little above the mouth, several rhythmically pulsating objects, illuminated by the headlights’ sickly yellow glow, were utterly nauseating.
‘Were those… hearts?!’
“Ye!”
Jing Lan spun around and rushed back, his shout attracting the monster’s attention.
Its tentacles froze in unison, and the great mouth on its body ceased.
He had no idea what senses this headless abomination was now using.
‘Now’s the chance!’
He halted abruptly, raised his rifle, and aimed!
He fired in short bursts!
Five bullets flew out in quick succession, two of them bursting two of the hearts located along the upper rim of the monster’s oral cavity.
Black blood cascaded out, staining the intestinal organs even darker.
Suddenly, a cold hand clutched Jing Lan’s neck, followed by the sharp crack of a pistol.
A zombie collapsed.
Kong Cheng, gripping his P22, managed to force a faint smile onto his face, which was now almost as pale as a zombie’s.
“Careful, buddy…”
The monster, its hearts burst, writhed on the ground, still showing no signs of ceasing its movements.
Jing Lan suspected that the creature possessed more hearts within its body.
In the tricycle’s compartment, Little Ye sat, her white hair disheveled, her expression utterly terrified, hands clamped over her mouth.
Her glasses were nowhere to be seen.
Jing Lan was astonished.
As arguably the best close-combat fighter in their group, and having recently dispatched ordinary zombies, her courage should have been considerable.
While this new monster was undeniably horrific, Jing Lan himself had suppressed his fear to return fire.
Even without a gun, Little Ye should have been able to calm down and escape, shouldn’t she?
Why had she suddenly frozen in terror?
Jing Lan tried to pull her, but she shrieked in terror, her un-spectacled eyes seemingly unable to discern his face.
However, when Jing Lan shouted, “We need to go!”, she finally calmed down slightly, though her body remained limp, as if struck by a spell of debilitating weakness.
He could no longer afford such considerations; zombies, drawn by the gunfire, were now rapidly converging from all directions.
Jing Lan scooped the girl into his arms.
Fortunately, she weighed less than 40 kilograms.
Kong Cheng shot down two more zombies, and the two men immediately began to move on foot.
Carrying someone, however, inevitably slowed them down.
The chaotic shuffling of zombies behind them grew louder and louder.
‘If things become truly dire, abandoning a companion to save one’s own life is the correct choice.’
Yet, the mere thought ignited a sudden surge of hatred for his own rationality.
His arm, wrapped around Little Ye, tightened instinctively, as if to defy such a choice.
Now, Kong Cheng was even outrunning him.
“They’re catching up!” Kong Cheng yelled, firing two more shots from his P22 before the bullets ran out, the slide locking back on an empty magazine.
‘Just a little further! The hospital is right ahead!’
The question, however, was—
‘What made him think the hospital would be safe?’
His grip on the girl’s hand suddenly relaxed.
‘If the hospital was overrun with even more zombies, carrying her would only doom them all.’
“Wake up!” Jing Lan yelled at the girl.
‘Or I’ll leave you behind!’
The words remained unspoken.
He didn’t want the girl to hear it and feel disappointed in him.
Even if he abandoned her, it would be better to make it seem like an accidental slip.
After letting go, he could call out to her a few more times, ensuring she felt cared for in her final moments.
Rather than feeling like she had been deliberately abandoned.
‘How utterly hypocritical.’
‘I won’t do such a thing.’
His hands tightened their grip once more.
Jing Lan looked up at Kong Cheng, who was leading the way.
‘What if I tripped him when he wasn’t looking?
Using him to feed the zombies might just buy us an escape…’
Jing Lan suddenly wanted to slap himself.
‘Damn it, he just saved your life!
What kind of beast are you?
And this girl isn’t even your girlfriend!
By what right do you decide who deserves to die?’
Just then, Kong Cheng suddenly cried out, “Someone!”
‘Someone where?’
Kong Cheng held a small flashlight, sweeping its beam across the concrete road.
The concrete road was utterly deserted.
But upon closer inspection.
There was a red dot of light.
Looking up, he scanned the distance.
Far away, on the second floor of the hospital’s emergency department, a red laser pointer was emitting a red beam towards their location.