“I understand. It’s perfectly normal not to believe.”
Emergency physician Gu Wenqiang muttered, almost to himself, as he pushed open the previously locked fire door.
Jing Lan detested that self-important tone. “That’s not important. Furthermore, we are now in the exposure zone [a term Jing Lan had coined on the fly], so let’s keep talking to a minimum.”
“Ah, yes, I know, I know. I merely wanted to mention it beforehand. If the Lord blesses me and allows me to see my daughter again, I will surely bring the true scripture for you to see. It is a rare miracle in this world, though I, too, once scoffed at it.”
The doctor closed the fire door, then retrieved a dagger modified from a medical No. 36 blade from his clothing.
Jing Lan had a small Nitecore LA10 floodlight flashlight, which he had received from Keke earlier, strapped to his wrist.
Under the beam of the flashlight, the doctor’s dagger gleamed, yet Jing Lan found the weapon far from reassuring.
Kong Cheng had also come along, and before they set off, he had asked why the white-haired girl hadn’t joined them.
“I sense her state isn’t quite right… In fact, if I were to be honest, her entire being feels off to me. But what truly worries me is a different matter, which I’ll tell you about later. All in all, I don’t feel comfortable letting her come with us again.”
Jing Lan selected a metal pole from an IV stand as his weapon.
He also possessed an AK, or more precisely, a Type 56 assault rifle, with four bullets remaining, but it was clear he needed to conserve them.
Kong Cheng, too, picked up a surgical scalpel for self-defense, though his own grim assessment was, “If there’s no way out, I can always slit my own throat.”
Observing the scalpel’s slender blade, that seemed a disturbingly plausible use indeed.
****
The group descended to the hospital’s ground floor, fortunate to find no zombies roaming in that direction.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got. What marvels have you prepared?” Jing Lan said, watching as the physician rummaged through a pile of miscellaneous items in the stairwell.
Soon, several security guard uniforms were unearthed.
“Uh, if even medical troublemakers aren’t afraid of security guards, zombies certainly won’t be.”
“The key isn’t the security uniforms, of course, but this.” The physician shook a plastic bottle. “The uniforms are merely to spare you from too much disgust.”
With that, the liquid in the plastic bottle was slowly poured onto the spread-out security uniforms on the floor, instantly filling the stairwell with a foul stench.
“Damn it, this is ammonia, isn’t it?!” Jing Lan immediately grasped the doctor’s intention.
Donning clothes smeared with putrid ammonia to mask human scent and thus avoid zombie detection—it was a classic zombie movie trope.
While ammonia might appear more hygienic than zombie flesh and blood, its odor was arguably far more intense.
After pulling on the security uniforms, Jing Lan and Kong Cheng found themselves on the verge of vomiting.
Physician Gu Wenqiang, however, remained perfectly calm.
It made sense; as an emergency room doctor, he had likely encountered countless mangled, Cthulhu-like casualties fresh from car accidents, becoming accustomed to the stench of blood and gore long ago.
The problem now was—
“Doctor, are you certain zombies track targets by smell?”
“Certain.”
“On what grounds?” Jing Lan tilted his head slightly.
The physician sniffed, perhaps trying to suppress a sneeze from the ammonia irritating his nasal membranes—an urge that even familiarity with foul odors couldn’t overcome.
“That’s why I said, belief is crucial. While disbelief is normal, you cannot succeed without reciting the latest scriptures bestowed by the Most High God.”
This rambling, spiritual talk thoroughly exasperated Jing Lan.
“Do you know when I last, no, when I’ve only ever prayed to gods and Buddhas three times in my life? Once for my first love, once for my mother, and once for myself. I begged the heavens not to let those I cherished die, not to let my decade-plus of effort come to naught, but what good did it do? Absolutely none…”
“You see, you merely treat our Creator as an ATM for wishes. Setting aside that resurrection is an extravagant wish to begin with, you are now alive and well, without needing to pray. Is that not a miracle? Clearly, you lack a theological foundation. But conveniently, the latest three chapters of scripture explain these matters with such clarity in so few words that you’ll understand instantly…”
“Stop preaching to me with that missionary tone. Proselytizing is illegal in our country, you know…”
“Then who will enforce the law now? Evidently, only the supreme…”
Seeing their voices rising, Kong Cheng quickly waved his hand to interrupt the argument. “Alright, let’s argue about these matters after we’re done…” Just then, a drop of ammonia from his sleeve flew into Jing Lan’s nostril.
The putrid liquid, rumored to wake even the unconscious, nearly made Jing Lan’s eyes roll back as he almost collapsed on the spot.
Composing himself, Jing Lan took a slow breath through his mouth.
“Let’s go back.”
****
Initially, inside the hospital, Gu Wenqiang had found Jing Lan and Kong Cheng, his emotions so agitated it was as if Jing Lan’s group intended to save his own relatives. He had almost shouted, “Saving the person you wish to save now will accumulate immense merit for you…”
Though it was easy to discern that the man was a rather deluded believer, Jing Lan’s thought at the time was that in such circumstances, a less rational mind might be more reliable than a rational one.
Especially since Gu Wenqiang had then confidently assured them, “The Lord has given me a revelation on how to avoid the fallen ones’ harm… that is, how to make zombies unable to detect living people.”
Inside the room, Jing Lan had felt the doctor’s eyes held a flicker of reason under the flashlight’s beam.
‘Perhaps he wasn’t actually a lunatic?’
‘Like Father Grigori from *Half-Life 2*? Eccentric but ultimately reliable?’
Noticing Jing Lan’s hesitation, Doctor Gu had added, “If you’re so fond of cowering, then why bother running all this way? You won’t achieve anything anyway.”
He then left the room, just as Little Ye entered.
‘Won’t achieve anything anyway?’
Lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket, Jing Lan stared at the dark ceiling.
He felt as though he had experienced this predicament more than once.
Helplessness. Fear. Wanting to ask others about the future, only to find no one could provide an answer.
He sat up.
Little Ye was asleep, her breathing soft and tranquil.
Kong Cheng, surprisingly, was lost in thought.
‘Why couldn’t he sleep? Why couldn’t someone his age sleep?’
‘It’s good he’s awake.’
“Buddy, let’s go find that doctor…”
****
“Are we really going back just like that?” Now Kong Cheng seemed somewhat reluctant. “No, we just endured that awful stench for nothing?”
“I don’t trust that guy! Though I believe in freedom of religion, he’s just too terrifying!”
“But no matter what, this stink invisibility cloak seems to be working,” Kong Cheng said, turning his head to look. A few zombies were trailing them at a distance of about ten meters, seemingly following slowly, yet it also appeared they had merely coincidentally walked behind the group. They certainly weren’t accelerating to close in on the humans.
However, upon closer inspection, it became apparent that zombies seemed to be lingering at every intersection the group had passed.
There shouldn’t have been so many on the way here.
“Doctor, how much ammonia do you have left?” Jing Lan asked uneasily.
The plastic bottle rattled as it was shaken.
“Plenty.”
“I don’t really think this stink invisibility cloak is entirely effective. Look, many zombies seem to be slowly following us.”
“It might be a test from the Lord. Do not resist trials, and do not be afraid no matter what difficulties we encounter.”
The path back was now swarming with zombies; it seemed their only option was to press forward.
“Doctor, do you have any other methods besides ammonia?” Jing Lan inquired.
“Ah, do you truly believe the Lord’s grace is insufficient?” the doctor replied, then opened the bottle again and poured a little ammonia over Jing Lan’s head.
Jing Lan: “…”
The group, enduring the stench, groped their way through the dark streets, gradually quickening their pace, attempting to shake off the zombies seemingly following behind them.
Initially, everything proceeded fairly smoothly. Fortunately, they hadn’t encountered any Night Demons. However, due to increased zombie activity on the main roads, the group unanimously decided to take the smaller paths.
After only a few steps, they realized their carefully muffled footsteps sounded odd. Looking down, they saw clumps of sticky garbage scattered on the ground. The refuse clung to their shoe soles, creating a *squelching* noise with every step.
Had the city truly become this filthy after just ten days without sanitation workers?
The air, too, was heavy.
Even with the reeking ammonia smeared on their bodies, the group could detect a different, unfamiliar stench in the air.
Wait, Jing Lan suddenly found this smell in the air both eerie and… familiar.
It was the putrid scent of blood he had smelled before, when he rescued Keke from the top floor of the teaching building.