026: Terror at the General Store

“Boss, two ice creams, please. Here’s the money. This heat is killing me.”

“It’s about to rain. Just hang in there.”

“Look at those clouds. It’s been stifling all afternoon. Boss, how much do you think it’ll rain?”

“Thunderstorm. It’ll be over quickly, not much of a soak.”

“As long as it rains, that’s fine. Better than nothing. Hasn’t rained for a week, right?”

“Tell me about it.”

While Ma Tian and the boss exchanged idle small talk, Yang Xiaohua focused on tearing open the ice cream wrapper and took a big bite.

Cold and refreshing!

Half the sky had darkened, but the other half remained bright as ever. The ice cream was finished in just a few bites—it wasn’t much to begin with. Just as they were debating getting another to quench their thirst, several flashes lit up the sky, thunder rumbled, and fat raindrops suddenly poured down, washing away the suffocating heat and replacing it with a cool comfort that seeped into their bones.

The thunder rolled on, and the rain was heavy. Neither of them had an umbrella, so they gave up on the idea of a second ice cream and sheltered under the awning of the corner store, waiting for the rain to stop before heading back to the rescue center.

“Hey, did you hear that?” Yang Xiaohua thought she heard sirens. She looked out from under the awning, but all was a blur of white—maybe the thunder was too loud and she misheard.

Ma Tian didn’t answer, just patted her shoulder.

“Quit it, I really hear an alarm.”

Still, Ma Tian said nothing, only patted her shoulder again.

“What are you doing—ah…” Yang Xiaohua turned around, annoyed, and froze.

The corner store owner, who had been chatting with them just moments ago, now stood by the counter, head cocked, shoulders hunched, eyes staring straight at them.

“Oh god, he looked normal just now. Did he suddenly have a stroke? Need us to call an ambulance?” Ma Tian kept talking, but lifted the shotgun off his shoulder and began to load it, slowly.

“Something’s not right…” Yang Xiaohua almost swallowed the ice cream stick she was biting on, her voice trembling.

“I know, damn it! Move slowly, don’t provoke him. I’ve got a combat knife at my belt. When I say go, grab the knife and run for the rescue center.”

“I thought you had a shotgun…”

“Bull! It’s loaded with beanbag rounds—they’re not lethal!”

“Huh?” Yang Xiaohua didn’t know what a beanbag round was, but she understood the part about it not being lethal.

It wasn’t Ma Tian’s fault about the beanbag rounds. The rescue center had people coming and going—it wasn’t a special forces command post. You couldn’t patrol with live ammo; if there was an accident or if someone grabbed your gun, it’d be a disaster. So, real guns loaded with non-lethal rounds were the best option. Beanbag rounds, as the name suggests, are cloth bags filled with lead powder; when fired, they spread wide and are designed to stop rather than injure. Hit someone through clothing, and the worst is a large bruise—unless you shoot someone in the face from three meters away.

Death is unlikely, but blindness and disfigurement are certain.

Ma Tian knew beanbag rounds could intimidate regular people, but when it came to zombies—even if you blasted their faces to pulp, you couldn’t count on the force breaking their necks. And hoping the lead powder might penetrate the eyeball and reach the brain for a kill? Heh, you might as well use the gunstock as a club.

“When I shoot, you—”

“No… I can’t. My legs are giving out…”

Yang Xiaohua had lived through the Harbin outbreak, but she’d been in the capital’s command center at the time! The fact that she could even follow what Ma Tian was saying showed she had nerves tougher than most, but trembling limbs were understandable—even a big, burly man would freeze up if he had no warning and suddenly faced a zombie.

“Really? Now’s the time for weak knees?” Actually, Ma Tian was barely holding it together himself, but he was a man, and with a woman he liked beside him to protect, no matter how scared or useless he felt, he had to grit his teeth and step up. Besides, he was the son of a soldier—he’d handled guns and gone hunting since he was a kid. He wasn’t about to back down.

Just as both of them were frozen in panic, the store owner, with a grotesquely twisted posture, slowly raised one hand and opened his mouth: “Help…”

What the—can zombies talk now?!

No, wait—

The boss was still alive!

Ma Tian raised the shotgun and shouted, “What’s wrong with you? Talk to us! If you keep acting creepy, I’ll shoot!”

The boss seemed to hear him. The hand he’d managed to lift dropped, and he took half a step before collapsing stiffly to the floor.

Only then did Ma Tian, and Yang Xiaohua peering out from behind him, realize in shock that two enormous rats were clinging to the store owner’s back! One was biting into his neck, and the other had half its body burrowed into his back!

If he didn’t shoot now, he really would be a coward.

At this range, he didn’t even need to aim. Two muffled blasts, and the beanbag rounds slammed into the rats. The pressure that would only bruise a person was more than a rat could take; both instantly turned into nothing but limp skins, their shattered innards spurting from mouth and…elsewhere. The store filled with a pungent, sour stench.

Ma Tian and Yang Xiaohua exchanged a look and bolted out the door.

Urgh—

Yang Xiaohua’s reaction was worse than Ma Tian’s—she almost collapsed. Ma Tian, after two dry heaves, quickly grabbed a packet of tissues from the shop entrance and handed them to her.

The rain had eased, and the sirens were now clear. The small town, once merely quiet, was now deserted. The rescue center up ahead was empty, its entrance stained with blood that the rain had washed into pale pink rivulets, and the occasional gunshot made things even eerier.

“Feeling better?” Ma Tian was quietly impressed at how Yang Xiaohua hadn’t screamed or panicked like some girls—or even collapsed. He was just about to hand her a bottle of water to rinse her mouth when he sensed movement behind him. He turned, and a gaping mouth with twitching, twisted arms lunged for his face!

The store owner.

Now fully zombified.

They’d been so focused on the rats, they’d forgotten to finish off the boss!

The store owner was now hardly human—bloodshot eyes, torn lips, and twitching fingers all betraying an insatiable hunger for living flesh. Ma Tian wanted nothing more than to shove the shotgun into that drooling mouth and blow his head off. But the boss gave him no chance. They were too close; as Ma Tian was knocked down, he barely managed to wedge the shotgun between them, desperately holding back the zombie’s snapping jaws.

The boss weighed nearly two hundred pounds, and Ma Tian was pinned, unable to move. This guy was nothing like the slow zombies from the news—he was way too agile! Twice Ma Tian struggled, twice he nearly got bitten. There was nothing he could do.

A mop handle suddenly wedged between them—Yang Xiaohua, in her panic, couldn’t find a better weapon. With her strength, even a cleaver would be useless against the boss’s skull. But she kept her wits, using the mop handle as a lever to pry the zombie away.

Together, they managed to force the zombie’s arms apart. Ma Tian seized the chance and shoved the shotgun into the boss’s mouth. Whether the splatter might infect him, Ma Tian no longer cared—he pulled the trigger hard!

With a muffled blast, the boss’s upper body was thrown back. Ma Tian rolled him aside. The beanbag round hadn’t caused the anticipated gore, just pulverized the mouth and blasted through the thin bone of the palate. The boss lay on the ground, blood oozing from every orifice, legs twitching—a pitiful end to his “unrealized ambitions.”

“Don’t look! Let’s go!” Ma Tian dragged Yang Xiaohua toward the rescue center. They were still half-dazed from the horror in the store, but there was no time to process.

In moments, they were close to the rescue center entrance, only to see several civilians and staff stumbling out, screaming for help. A dozen figures, clearly not human anymore, burst out after them, quickly catching up and biting down without hesitation.

Damn it, the rescue center was lost.

What now? Ma Tian could only think of the protective gear and weapons stored there, but now with zombies at the entrance, that route was blocked. He was at a loss—standing in the open would be suicide, as these new zombies were much faster than the old ones. They needed to find shelter.

As Ma Tian and Yang Xiaohua skidded to a halt, two zombies who’d missed out on “food” turned and charged them. Ma Tian knew it was do-or-die time. He lifted the shotgun with his left hand, reaching for his knife with his right—when Yang Xiaohua grabbed his arm.

“Don’t fight! This way—follow me!”

Having helped civilians escape the rescue center more than once, Yang Xiaohua had the instincts to match. She didn’t have time to explain; she dragged Ma Tian back toward the corner store, yelling, “Trust me!”

The two fast-moving zombies gave Ma Tian no time to think. He was pulled along by Yang Xiaohua, and as she dashed up the iron staircase by the shelves to the second floor, he finally understood and followed her up.

The layout of such stores was common in northeastern towns: a large open space on the first floor for shelves and goods, with a staircase—usually iron or sometimes concrete—leading to bedrooms and a kitchen upstairs.

On the second floor, Ma Tian didn’t need prompting. He quickly scanned the space, grabbed two frying pans, and tossed them down the stairs, sending the two pursuing zombies sprawling. He then toppled a shoe cabinet at the stairwell to block the way, just as Yang Xiaohua came rushing back with two iron stools. They wedged the stool legs into the stair gaps and the railing. Luckily, these quick, agile zombies were no smarter than slow ones—they just reached and clawed, unable to remove the obstacles. The barricade wouldn’t last forever, but it bought enough time for Ma Tian to draw his knife, find the perfect spot and distance, and dispatch the two zombies.

Retrieving his knife from the second zombie’s eye socket, Ma Tian, without being told, leapt down the stairs again. Two quick strides took him to the store entrance, where he clubbed a lone zombie with the gunstock and finished it with the knife. Yang Xiaohua, meanwhile, had found the hook for the rolling shutter. Working in perfect sync, they pulled down and locked the shutter before the other zombies noticed. Only then did they collapse behind the door, panting.

“Good thing you’re smart—if we’d kept running in the street, we’d have been eaten by these new zombies sooner or later.”

Yang Xiaohua just rolled her eyes, as if to say, Don’t underestimate me. She forced herself up. “Come on, upstairs. I’ll find us some hooded clothes and some string to tie up our sleeves and pants—keep out the rats. You keep blocking the stairs in case any zombies break through the shutter. I don’t think rescue will arrive for a while, so try not to shoot, save the—”

“Got it, don’t worry.” Ma Tian didn’t know Yang Xiaohua had helped so many escape zombie-infested Harbin, but he was amazed at her composure and quietly proud of his own good judgment. A woman like her was the perfect partner for surviving the apocalypse. Grinning, he wiped the blood and brain matter off his knife with a tissue and handed it to her. “Stay alert, keep your ears open. In case there are more rats in here…”

“Mm.”

“Oh, can you use this?”

“Shut up!”

“Oh…” Ma Tian grinned and followed her back upstairs.

Ma Tian quickly scanned the whole floor, found a decent-sized nightstand in the bedroom, and dragged it over to block the stairs. That wouldn’t be enough, so he searched the other rooms and found some three-legged stools, which he wedged into the stair gaps, intentionally at odd angles, then added the mop and a clothes rod for good measure. Now, not even a person could climb those stairs, let alone a zombie.

As he finished, he heard Yang Xiaohua calling. He answered and hurried to the balcony, where she was pointing at two zombies prowling below—both women. One wore a wire mask, her throat a gaping bloody hole, her right arm half torn off, her light T-shirt soaked in blood and turned a strange dark purple. The other was bare-chested, one breast missing, exposing white rib bones and even the organs behind them.

The smell was enough to make you gag.

Judging the distance, Ma Tian thought he could reach out with the shotgun through the railings and shoot them both in the mouth. He was about to try when Yang Xiaohua pulled him back.

“Don’t. Gunfire will only bring more trouble. Haven’t you noticed the gunshots have died down?”

Ma Tian listened. Sure enough, the shooting around town had diminished—from the earlier chaos to now, when he could pinpoint shots by their direction.

Fewer gunshots meant one of two things: either the zombies had won and the town was about to be leveled by a missile, or the zombies had been mostly cleared and patrols would soon hunt down the stragglers.

They both hoped for the latter.

Still, those two zombies below couldn’t be ignored. If they started banging on the shutter, others would come, and that would be the end. But if they couldn’t shoot… Ma Tian slapped his forehead, ran to the kitchen for a coil of hemp rope, and began tying a lasso. Yang Xiaohua watched, puzzled.

After half a minute, Ma Tian shook out the loop and began spinning it with some flair—he’d learned a bit from herders on a trip, and now he wanted to show off. He gave a shout and flung the loop across the narrow street.

It landed limply on the ground.

The moment was awkward, and Yang Xiaohua struggled not to laugh—she was afraid she’d burst out if she opened her mouth. As Ma Tian raised his hand to slap his forehead again, she caught his wrist, smiled, and said, “Don’t hit your head, you’ll go stupid.”

“I learned from herders when I was traveling—not that good at it,” Ma Tian muttered, eyeing the zombies below. “What now? The one on the left—her arm’s half gone, ugh, I can’t even describe it.”

“Take down the clothes rod, but don’t break the mounting ring. Get a piece of wire, twist it into a loop, and fix it to the end,” Yang Xiaohua said, eyeing the rod in front of the rail. “Let’s use that.”

Ma Tian got it right away. Using the gunstock, he broke off the rod, made a wire loop, and attached it. Zombies weren’t smart enough to dodge—a loop slipped over their necks, and the two of them heaved together.

Crack—the sound of a snapped neck was sweet music now.

They repeated the process and dispatched the second zombie.

Sweaty and exhausted, they collapsed on the floor, not caring about the filth. Listening carefully, all gunfire in the town seemed to have stopped.

Looking out, they saw columns of black and even white smoke rising all over the small town. God knows what was burning; it was like the early days of the Harbin outbreak, with gas left on, cigarettes dropped in a panic, and water and electricity running wild—a thousand little signs of the world’s end. The smoke rising was like the crematorium’s plume, a reminder that death was closing in, and they might be next.

After catching their breath, they glanced at each other, pondering what to do next. Staying in the town wasn’t safe. Yang Xiaohua was still haunted by the explosion at the sanatorium—she wanted to mark a grave for the victims, but she had no intention of joining them, blown to bits by a missile or heavy artillery. Getting out of town was the best choice. Based on experience, finding a car was ideal—not a fancy one, but something simple enough to hotwire.

Ma Tian was more carefree. At first, he worried about what to do if the outbreak spread—whether to wait for rescue or fight south. After about thirty seconds of thought, he decided to just support whatever Xiaohua wanted. If she had no plan, he’d grab a car and break out with her.

A man, after all, sometimes has to act without overthinking.

Ma Tian always believed he was that kind of man.

Just as Ma Tian was running out of patience and about to help Yang Xiaohua make a decision, the turtle-like special operations command center finally showed signs of life. They could hear engines start up, and the main gate—opposite the store—began to open.

Patrol vehicles to stabilize the situation? Perfect!

Both of them jumped up at once—one grabbed the clothes rod to strip off the wire, the other dashed inside for a bright red jacket, waving it from the rod as a signal.

Four military jeeps, known as “Warriors,” rolled out from the command center in different directions. One passed right in front of the store and stopped at the rescue center entrance. A soldier climbed to the roof, set up a heavy machine gun, and opened fire on the building.

The thunderous .50-caliber gunfire tore through walls and bricks, turning furniture into shrapnel, and anyone left inside into chunks—one shot, two halves.

Knowing there were no survivors left, and not being especially attached to the new colleagues, Yang Xiaohua still couldn’t help but cover her mouth and weep at the carnage. Ma Tian, too, felt a pang, and put his arm around her shoulders in silence.

The firing continued. The jeep’s rear door opened and a soldier leapt out, crouched beneath the balcony, and wordlessly finished off the two zombies whose necks they’d already broken but who still snapped their jaws. Then he called up to them, “Were you bitten?”