Desperate Measures

Ling Yechen hadn’t yet managed to speak when Keke, still panting heavily, asked, –What’s going on with you all right now?–

–Wh-what do you mean, ‘what’s going on’?– Ling Yechen was utterly bewildered.

–Just… uh, it looks like things are alright on your end?–

–’Alright’? What’s ‘alright’?–

Though still completely perplexed, Ling Yechen sensed that something had gone awry on Keke’s side.

She was not one to speak so disjointedly, unless something was preventing her from articulating properly.

–Is Big Brother with you?–

–I stepped out to use the restroom.–

–Go back immediately. Tell him to head to Observation Post 115; he’ll know the place. Something major has happened, I—Ah!– A girl’s shriek erupted from the phone, followed by the clatter of a dropped mobile and a flurry of chaotic footsteps. Ling Yechen called out her name several times, but received no reply.

Was it an armed assault? Student unrest? A public safety incident? Ling Yechen found himself utterly flummoxed by the abrupt chaos.

The words he wanted to say remained unspoken, replaced by a potent sense of hollowness that coursed through his veins.

‘It seems I can never accomplish anything I set out to do,’ he fumed inwardly.

Keke was clearly in trouble, yet he was utterly powerless to help.

Keke was usually a girl unafraid of any challenge; Ling Yechen struggled to imagine what could have thrown her into such a panic.

As he made his way back, nearing his lodging, he noticed the door ajar, with several people inside engaged in earnest discussion.

It was Little Lamai, his father Old Wang—the village blacksmith—slung over his back, accompanied by Old Lü, who ran the local restaurant.

Blood had stained Old Wang’s dark blue cloth shirt crimson.

Though his face bore no overt expression of pain, his lips trembled uncontrollably.

Old Lü, too, had joined them, gesticulating wildly as he spoke with Jing Lan.

Upon seeing Ling Yechen approach, Jing Lan swiftly pulled him inside, then resumed his conversation with Little Lamai: –Where is the doctor from the clinic?–

Little Lamai’s face was a mottled red and blue, as if he had just endured a terrifying ordeal.

–The auditorium is filled with injured people, and the doctors are completely overwhelmed,– he explained.

Peering over Jing Lan’s shoulder, Ling Yechen saw a gaping wound on Old Wang’s arm, revealing pinkish muscle tissue, with blood gushing profusely.

What had been a hastily wrapped cloth bandage was now completely soaked, resembling a crimson sleeve.

Having only witnessed chickens being slaughtered a few times in his life, Ling Yechen was unaccustomed to such gruesome sights.

His temples throbbed twice, a pressure built behind his eyes, followed by a wave of dizziness.

The situation quickly became clear: moments ago, at the auditorium, someone had suddenly erupted into a frenzy, biting several villagers who were playing ‘Fight the Landlord’.

Old Wang, the blacksmith, had not escaped unscathed.

Trembling in agony, Old Wang rasped, –Those who get bitten seem to go mad as well, then they bite others! I don’t know what kind of madness this is!–

Mid-sentence, he abruptly realized he was among the bitten, and hastily clamped his mouth shut.

Jing Lan and Old Lü exchanged a look, and Old Lü slowly exhaled.

–To be safe, let’s tie Old Wang up with ropes first,– Old Lü suggested.

–So, are you taking him or not?– Little Lamai asked, his body trembling with urgency.

He was not particularly strong, and carrying his father was no easy feat.

‘Taking him where?’ Ling Yechen wondered, having just recovered from his blood-induced dizziness.

Lui Si, standing nearby, interjected softly, –The road to the county hospital is blocked, and all emergency lines are down.

Even if special circumstances allow, and staff might let us through, it’s possible…–

Jing Lan understood: Lui Si meant that the hospital might not be able to admit new patients.

Considering the information that had surfaced online earlier, this ‘madness’ was likely spreading rapidly.

Jing Lan pulled out his phone. –I’ll call someone in Mengshan County first.

Keke has been at the Ethnic Middle School, so she might not have much information…–

Ling Yechen quickly stepped forward. –I just spoke to her! Something’s happened at the school! She sounded like she was being chased, and her phone dropped!–

–What else did she say?– Jing Lan’s face instantly darkened.

–Oh, she told us to go to Observation Post 115.–

–Save my father!– Little Lamai pleaded, on the verge of tears.

–We must save him, but I’ll try to contact other relatives in the county town first,– Jing Lan asserted.

No sooner had Jing Lan finished speaking than Lui Si suddenly pointed towards the dark road’s end outside the door.

–Something’s coming!–

Several dark, distorted figures swayed and lurched towards them.

Jing Lan cast a quick glance.

Though he couldn’t discern them clearly, his intuition screamed that these were not normal humans.

–Old Lü, Little Lamai, get inside!– In mere seconds, the figures had shockingly closed in, their wide, bulging eyes appearing to weep blood.

Jing Lan cursed under his breath, then slammed the door shut.

Inside the dimly lit wooden house, the group exchanged glances, each person silent, as if awaiting some unspoken cue.

Outside the door, faint footsteps drew nearer, stopping precisely at their threshold.

‘Could they actually be alive?’ Ling Yechen, huddled in the corner, peeked at the curtained window, where a faint shadow seemed to flicker at the edge.

Suddenly, a horrifying roar erupted from outside, immediately followed by a frantic pounding on the door.

Dust rained down from the doorframe, dislodged by the violent vibrations, and Little Lamai, cowering behind the door, let out a terrified shriek: –Aiya!–

Upon hearing a human voice, the creature outside emitted an even more dreadful shriek, akin to monkeys squabbling at a zoo, then resumed its furious assault on the door, like an irritated landlord demanding entry.

Everyone inside froze in place, like statues.

After approximately ten minutes, the outside finally fell silent.

Jing Lan crept to the corner of the window, stealing a glance through the curtain’s slit.

A sudden, booming roar—–Awooo!–—erupted from just outside the window.

Jing Lan recoiled, his face impassive, yet his gaze immediately fell upon Ling Yechen, trembling in the corner.

The thing outside began to furiously smash against the glass window.

Soon, the glass shattered, crashing noisily onto the floor inside.

Fortunately, these old-fashioned, red-painted glass windows came equipped with anti-theft iron bars spaced ten centimeters apart, preventing the creature from entering.

However, two blood-stained hands reached through, pushing aside the curtain, allowing those inside to see the hands’ owner.

The creature possessed a man’s body, but its skin had turned a pallid blue-green.

Its eyes bulged, weeping blood, and its jaw trembled violently, opening and closing as if shivering uncontrollably.

Jing Lan and the others recognized that face.

It belonged to Dao Shangzou, the man whose dog Jing Lan had accidentally run over.

In just four hours, Dao Shangzou had transformed into a terrifying semblance of that very dog.

Lui Si fixed her gaze on Dao Shangzou’s contorted face, took a deep breath, and finally, her arm ceased its trembling.

–What should we do, Senior? Wait for backup here?–

Jing Lan turned, facing Old Wang, who lay on the bed in the darkness.

–Old Wang, how are you feeling?–

Old Wang remained motionless, uttering no sound.

Without a word, Jing Lan turned sideways, pulled his backpack from beside the door, and began rummaging through it.

Little Lamai approached his father’s bedside.

No sooner had he called out, –Father,– than his father on the bed abruptly sat up, a cacophony of gurgling bubbles erupting from his throat.

His body coiled and stretched like a writhing snake, and he lunged, jaws agape, at his own son.

Old Lü let out a shout, pushing Little Lamai aside, only for Old Wang to sink his teeth into Old Lü’s arm.

As pain shot through Old Lü’s arm, and he struggled to break free, Old Wang’s eyes suddenly widened menacingly, and his jaw clamped down with increased force.

Blood immediately began to seep from Old Lü’s arm.

–Father!!!– Little Lamai shrieked, his legs giving out as he fell to his knees.

Hearing Little Lamai’s cries, Old Wang’s head suddenly tilted, his eyes swiveling to fixate on his son.

A gurgling sound emanated from his throat, as if he were trying to speak.

Little Lamai, believing his father’s consciousness had momentarily returned, continued to wail, –Father! Don’t be mad! Father, wake up!–

Jing Lan retrieved a dagger from his backpack.

It was a ‘Night Goddess’ tactical knife, the signature product of the American company Spartan Blades.

Jing Lan had never imagined that its first use against a living creature would be to kill a person.

That is, if the current Old Wang could still be considered ‘human’.

Noticing Jing Lan approaching, the frenzied Old Wang suddenly released his grip, turning to lunge at Jing Lan.

The latter pushed Old Wang’s forehead with one hand, simultaneously plunging the knife into Old Wang’s eye socket.

Old Wang let out two guttural cries before his body quickly went limp.

Little Lamai, beside them, wept until his voice gave out, unable to make a sound.

Ling Yechen, who had been cowering in the corner, rose to his feet, his trembling finger pointing at Old Lü.

–He was bitten too.–

Old Lü, clutching his arm, stood up.

–Indeed, I was bitten. It seems I’ll be turning into one of those things as well,– the sturdy middle-aged man stated with remarkable composure.

Ling Yechen was unaware that Old Lü had participated in a war in the vicinity some thirty years ago.

Ling Yechen suddenly realized he had done something incredibly despicable.

Perhaps it changed nothing, as everyone had seen Old Lü get bitten, but why had he felt compelled to point it out?

Was he trying to instigate Jing Lan to stab Old Lü as well?

‘Am I truly this kind of person? So selfish, malicious, and ready to kick someone when they’re down? Old Lü has always been so good to us, so why, at a time like this, did I instinctively want to expose him? Senior Jing Lan is very perceptive; has he already figured out what kind of garbage human I am?’ The more he thought, the more terrified he became, unable to lift his head.

–There might still be hope, Uncle Lü,– Jing Lan said calmly, wiping his knife with a tissue and sheathing it.

He then turned to rummage through his backpack. –Let’s find some nylon rope to tie your hands and feet, then we’ll take you to the county hospital now.–

Old Lü chuckled twice, waving his unbitten hand.

–Don’t be foolish, my son [a local dialect term for a close acquaintance’s son]. This is a matter of life and death. You youngsters haven’t experienced anything like this, so you don’t understand.

I fought against the Vietnamese monkeys; I know what death looks like.

Right now, my hand feels like it’s buzzing with electricity, a potent poison. I won’t survive. I’ll go out myself and draw those crazed things away from the door.

You all hurry to the restaurant, get your car, and go to Observation Post 115.

After that, find a way to contact the military or police and save yourselves first.–

Little Lamai, who had just recovered from his tears, mumbled incoherently, as if his mouth was full of water.

–Uncle Lü, my father is gone, you can’t go.–

–No, I must go. Get up, all of you, no more crying. Learn from Little Jing; he doesn’t even bat an eyelid when the sky falls.

The army used to need people like him. Hurry up…–

As he spoke, Old Lü glanced out the window again.

–It’s too late. More madmen are coming, they’ll surround this place, and you won’t be able to get out.

If Keke’s high school is also in trouble, things will be dire.

The military and police might not arrive for ten days to half a month, and you’ll be trapped here to die.–

Jing Lan remained silent, then re-drew the sheathed short knife.

–Then don’t go to your death, Uncle Lü. Run towards the doctors and let them give you antibiotics.–

–Understood,– Uncle Lü replied flatly, though everyone else could tell it was a mere pretense.

Lui Si took a deep breath.

–Thank you, Uncle Lü. We will remember you.–

Uncle Lü let out a hearty laugh, a flicker of light in his narrowed eyes.

–Strange, the little girl speaks most like my brothers in the army, without any illusions! Good for you. –Hey, young man, you get up too! No dawdling!–

Ling Yechen struggled to get his scattered body upright, then picked up Little Lamai, who was beside him.

He and Uncle Lü exchanged a glance, then Uncle Lü turned, preparing to open the door.

‘I’m sorry, Uncle Lü. Thank you,’ Ling Yechen murmured inwardly, trying to steel his resolve.

A primal fear, touching upon his will to survive, was reawakening.

The melancholic anxieties that had once plagued his mind now seemed to fade considerably.

Just then, Ling Yechen noticed a bizarre, slimy shadow, which had silently crept into the room through the corner of the broken window, extending towards Old Lü, who had his back to the window.