006 said, "If we decide to leave, we'll leave right away."

With their minds made up, the group began to devise an evacuation plan. The SUV that had stalled across the street appeared largely undamaged from the outside, with only minor dents in the bodywork and no sign of oil leakage. Hu Chun, who could drive, judged that the stall was likely caused by the wrong gear, and since the keys were still in the car, the only obstacle was the zombies trapped inside. For three men armed with hammers and guns, this posed little difficulty.

Even if the SUV failed, the vicinity of Aijian Terminal, being one of Harbin’s upscale residential districts, was littered with all sorts of stalled vehicles. As long as they were careful with the wandering zombies and escaped before they gathered, it wouldn’t be too hard. Wang Chen was candid about his own driving skills—though inexperienced, he’d grown up around an auto repair shop and knew a thing or two about jump-starting a car, which added a bit of hope to their makeshift escape team.

Their discussion ended, and as everyone packed up, the sudden blare of a bus horn sounded from outside the terminal. Wang Chen was momentarily stunned, glancing in confusion at Hu Jun and Li Changhuai, who were equally bewildered. Who would honk a bus horn at a time like this? But Han Li was the first to react, exclaiming, “This is bad! The horn will attract zombies! Turn it off, quickly!”

Of course!

“Han Li, keep an eye on Qianqian!” Without further ado, Hu Chun broke into a run, with Wang Chen and Li Changhuai close behind, sprinting to the terminal parking lot. Following the sound, they found the bus with its door wide open and a string tied tightly around the steering wheel, securing a paper box—and it was Li Changhuai who cut the cord with his pocket knife, silencing the horn.

Less than two minutes had passed from the moment Wang Chen heard the horn to when the cord was cut—enough time to attract zombies. No need for Wang Chen to climb high to observe; the sudden pounding outside the bus yard walls and the increasing intensity of the noise told them that a sizeable number of zombies had already been drawn in. The bus’s skin was metal, not concrete, and while a few knocks weren’t loud, the horn had attracted so many zombies that their collective pounding grew noisy enough to trigger a snowball effect—more zombies would be drawn by the sound, and soon, the terminal’s perimeter would become a sea of zombies.

Even more alarming was the fact that, though buses appeared massive, their weight was not proportional to their size. Whether the thin metal gave way to persistent pounding or the bus was shifted enough by the zombies to create an opening, it was only a matter of time. If the military hadn’t yet arrived to rescue the city, the terminal’s survivors would be trapped inside with no way out.

When crisis struck, minds raced. Faces grim, Wang Chen and his companions hurried back to the small building, knowing time was short and not bothering to investigate who’d triggered the horn or explain things to the bewildered Han Li. Hu Chun shouldered Qianqian, while Wang Chen and Li Changhuai each took Han Li by the arm. The five of them rushed out, climbed atop the bus, and searched for the weakest point in the zombie formation to break through.

Station 3148’s timely voice came over the line—not questioning why Aijian Terminal was suddenly attracting zombies, but briefly notifying them, “A zombie horde has formed behind the terminal, estimated at around three hundred. Judging by their speed, it’ll take less than five minutes for them to reach the bus yard after circling the rear wall.” After a pause, 3148 continued, “For humanitarian reasons, I must contact all refugees inside the terminal and urge them to evacuate quickly.”

During their previous conversation, 3148 had noted Wang Chen’s contempt for the cold-blooded refugees at the terminal, but duty required her to treat everyone equally and safeguard all lives. Offering Wang Chen an extra warning was already going above and beyond.

Wang Chen didn’t catch the deeper meaning in 3148’s words, but Hu Chun, seasoned by years in society, quickly grasped it. “That operator’s decent. She’s saying we need to hurry, or the folks inside will get the call and rush out as well—there’ll be competition for escape vehicles, and once chaos breaks out, no one will get away.”

Indeed, in today’s world, few sacrifice themselves for others during crisis, but plenty would drag their companions down.

Time was running out. Looking at the zombies evenly dispersed outside the bus yard walls, their best idea was to tie the horn of a bus in the corner, using its sound to lure zombies away and create an opening to jump off the bus, then cross the street to the SUV. Would the horn attract even more zombies? Certainly. But at this point, every man for himself. If one were to blame their coldness, the first culprit would be whoever had triggered the horn.

“All right, let’s settle on that. Brother Li, you take care of the bus horn. Once the zombies move, Hu and I will go for the car. Please look after Han Li and Qianqian.” Since only Hu Chun could drive, Wang Chen was quick to delegate.

Li Changhuai, never having handled a gun or driven, didn’t waste words. He leapt off the bus and ran to the one in the corner. In less than a minute, he broke open the driver’s cabin with his mason’s hammer, pressed the horn, and began tying the wheel. As expected, the zombies turned en masse toward the horn’s sound, moving to the terminal’s edge.

Wang Chen and Hu Chun moved swiftly. As soon as the zombies shifted, opening up a three- to five-meter gap, they pocketed their pistols, shouldered their packs, drew their knives, and climbed down from the bus. Upon landing, they quickly dispatched two zombies who’d noticed them and weren’t distracted by the horn. Ignoring others approaching, they ran straight across the street.

Reaching the SUV, they found the front door half open, with the driver and passenger already zombified and restrained by their seat belts. Seeing Wang Chen and Hu Chun approach, the zombies could only groan and reach out in vain.

Having practiced shooting at moving targets, Wang Chen was unfazed by these stationary threats. He brushed aside the female zombie’s arm in the passenger seat and, with precision, stabbed her in the eye socket. Her head drooped instantly, her craving for flesh unfulfilled. He released the seat belt and dragged her out, while Hu Chun, faster still, pulled the male zombie out with one hand. As they cleared the SUV, other zombies drawn by their actions were already within twenty meters.

Wang Chen packed their belongings into the car as Hu Chun checked the vehicle’s condition. With eight years and nearly 100,000 kilometers of driving experience, Hu Chun fired up the engine successfully. Luck was with them—the SUV was a manual transmission, offering more power in low gear than automatic. Hu Chun swung the wheel, giving the SUV a slick tail-flick, lined up the front, and charged toward the gathering zombies at the terminal’s edge.

Meanwhile, Li Changhuai had climbed back atop the bus, helping Han Li support Qianqian and signaling to Hu Chun and Wang Chen. Without delay, Hu Chun drove straight to the bus where the trio stood, mowing down three or four zombies. Wang Chen drew his pistol, stepped out, opened the rear door, and shouted, “Jump down!”

The SUV’s movement was noisy enough that, even with the bus horn attracting zombies, a dozen still turned toward the fresh sight of living humans and lunged at the SUV. Wang Chen caught Qianqian first, turning to push her inside, as zombies crowded both doors. Without hesitation, he drew his military knife and stabbed one zombie in the mouth, then pivoted and struck another in the head.

Li Changhuai jumped down at that moment. His mason’s hammer, though smaller than a cleaver or axe, was his livelihood—years of practice made his blows precise and forceful. He smashed a female zombie’s temple, pushed aside a teenage zombie, swung to dispatch an elderly zombie, and finished with another blow to a second teenage zombie’s skull.

Each hammer strike found its mark.

With Li Changhuai holding his own, Wang Chen’s pressure eased. He accepted the pistol from Hu Chun, firing point-blank into zombie skulls—three bullets and two knife thrusts dispatched four zombies, buying enough time for Han Li to jump down into the SUV.

Once Han Li was safe, Wang Chen fired two more shots, clearing the zombies nearest the doors and covering Li Changhuai’s entry. Wang Chen then ducked into the passenger seat, barely closing the door before Hu Chun floored the accelerator, sending the SUV roaring forward.

They barrelled over a few zombies blocking the way, accelerating as Wang Chen secured his seat belt. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw people on the terminal’s bus roof—one, seeming to be Liu Xiaokui, waved and shouted after the receding SUV. Wang Chen felt no urge to respond, letting Liu Xiaokui’s fate fade from his mind as he focused on reloading his pistol. The firepower was impressive, but the ammo scarce; still, it was preferable to melee weapons, and unlike Li Changhuai’s hammer skills, Wang Chen relied more on his pistol and knife.

Following Wang Chen’s directions, Hu Chun drove aggressively, circling Wang Chen’s apartment building twice, honking as he went. Though only a few minutes passed, nearly a hundred zombies were drawn in. Thankfully, the SUV’s power in low gear prevented them from being surrounded.

As the zombie horde on the street thickened, the stark contrast with the deserted apartment complex convinced Wang Chen it was time to leave. He signaled for Hu Chun to drive on.

From Aijian Terminal to Wanggang Airport, it should take less than an hour if the main roads are clear. However, Station 3148 had detected multiple accidents blocking the routes near the airport via satellite, making them impassable. Side roads were likewise blocked, with zombie hordes roaming about. The best advice was to take a detour. Thankfully, China Mobile was still operational, and Hu Chun’s 4G phone could download a simple route map from Station 3148. Barring unforeseen events, they should reach the airport’s outskirts in two hours.

It was midsummer in Harbin’s suburbs—hot indeed, but the sky remained vivid blue, dotted with occasional white clouds, a reminder that nature hadn’t yet collapsed in this border province. Riding in the SUV, enjoying the gentle breeze and the thriving cornfields and windbreaks along the country roads, one could almost mistake the journey for a picnic—if not for the pitiful figures shambling along the road, oblivious to passing vehicles.

With Station 3148’s guidance and a mostly full tank, they encountered no large zombie groups along the way. The only close call involved a dozen zombies blocking the road, but the SUV’s higher clearance and stronger engine made short work of it.

Near dusk, thick clouds seemed to bury the sun, casting a somber, oppressive hue over the once vibrant fields—a fitting end-of-the-world atmosphere. The SUV slowed, not due to mechanical trouble, but because other refugee vehicles appeared near the airport. It made sense: Harbin, as a provincial capital with millions of residents, would still have thousands of survivors even if the city was overrun.

Seeing so many others alive, Wang Chen felt a surge of security. His experience at the terminal had taught him the value of a society with basic morality and legal boundaries.

When they finally spotted the airport’s security checkpoint, Hu Qianqian and Han Li were tearfully embracing, and even Wang Chen found himself wiping away tears. Though only two days had passed since the outbreak, he’d witnessed far too much death. Just hours ago, he’d watched his father distract zombies to save him, never expecting to survive to this moment.

Military efficiency was unmatched—even in peacetime, civilians couldn’t hope to match it. In under two days, Wanggang Airport, once a training ground for pilots, had been transformed into a military camp. Visible from afar was a deep trench, at least two meters deep and four meters wide, stretching beyond sight. The scattered dirt and stones around the trench showed signs of directional blasting, probably done more than once.

Beyond the trench lay an endless expanse of barbed wire, about two meters high, anchored with metal stakes. Behind the wire were various civilian vehicles, including luxury cars—likely commandeered from those stranded near the airport to serve as makeshift supports. Two armored vehicles patrolled behind the civilian cars, their large machine guns ready to shred zombies climbing the wire.

A distant pile driver drew Wang Chen’s attention, installing metal stakes for a simple wall that already reached above two meters—unscalable for zombies and ordinary people alike.

It was reassuring, though the sporadic gunfire reminded refugees that zombies, drawn by the noise, still pressed toward the airport. So until they entered, only the military’s cover offered any safety.

The first security check was surprisingly simple: soldiers handed each vehicle three sheets of paper with brief instructions for entering the airport and waved them through.

Next came vehicle storage, weapon collection, inspection of personal belongings, full-body disinfection, and checks for infection wounds. By the time Wang Chen, wearing loose hospital clothes and carrying his backpack, arrived at the temporary barracks, Hu Chun and Li Changhuai were chatting and eating boxed meals, while Hu Qianqian lay sprawled on her bed, drooling in her sleep.

Wang Chen exchanged a few words with his companions, dropped his gear, and collapsed onto his bed. The boxed meal smelled good, but sleep was his only desire. The exhaustion from a sleepless night had been suppressed by the adrenaline of escape, but now, in relative safety, fatigue came crashing back, leaving Wang Chen desperately sleepy.

Half-awake, he heard the barracks door open. Han Li entered, her head wrapped in a towel, muttering something Wang Chen didn’t quite catch. Hu Chun and Li Changhuai, just finishing their meal, rose to help Han Li slide the partition into place. These barracks were quite humane—the partitions could be freely moved, dividing the room into two independent spaces and ensuring privacy.

Once the partition was installed, Hu Chun looked back at Wang Chen, who was already snoring lightly, his sleep contagious; Hu Chun felt his eyelids droop and yawned.

“Brother Wang is exhausted,” Li Changhuai said, accustomed to physical labor and still lively after a taxing afternoon. He pulled out a pack of military cigarettes and smiled, “Hu, you go ahead and sleep. I’ll keep watch for the first half of the night.”

“All right, wake me in four hours.”

Hu Chun accepted without fuss. They’d already agreed to take turns standing watch, perhaps overly cautious given the military’s protection. Still, both felt safer keeping their lives in their own hands. Another reason was that the military had confiscated their pistol and remaining bullets but left their knives and mason’s hammer—suggesting, perhaps, that the military couldn’t guarantee complete safety and wanted civilians to retain some means of self-defense.

As Hu Chun lay down, the barracks quickly quieted, darkness broken only by the glowing tip of Li Changhuai’s cigarette.

Wang Chen was jolted awake by a nightmare—not his own.

The scream was piercing, its frequency so high it nearly triggered his heart condition. Hu Chun sat up as well, eyes wide, “What happened? Qianqian, are you okay?”

“Dad, I’m fine. It was Sister Han who screamed.”

After a few seconds, Han Li’s weak voice came from the partition, “It was me. I had a nightmare. Sorry.”

“Oh, Sister Han, you scared me!” Qianqian’s complaint prompted Han Li’s repeated apologies.

Wang Chen flopped back onto his bed, then sat up to dig out some medical cotton from his backpack. Using Li Changhuai’s flashlight, he divided it among everyone so they could plug their ears and avoid being startled awake again. Noticing Li Changhuai still holding his cigarette, Wang Chen asked, “Li, why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Oh, I was just discussing the night watch with Hu. I’m taking the first shift.” Li Changhuai, honest to a fault, explained everything.

“All right, Li, I’ll go to the bathroom. When I return, I’ll take over.”

“No need. Hu and I can handle it.”

“Don’t be polite. That’s settled.” Wang Chen didn’t wait for a reply, ducking out of the barracks.

The night at the airport was not entirely peaceful. Near the civilian area lay the runway, brilliantly lit, with planes taking off and landing through the night. Judging by the sky, summer rain was imminent, the air thick with a crisp, damp scent. At Harbin’s latitude, even thirty-degree days rarely stay above twenty at night. After passing two barracks, Wang Chen found the designated portable toilet and relieved himself under its dim emergency light. On his way out, he encountered a patrol—three armed soldiers marching past. Wang Chen watched them disappear around the corner, then returned to his own barracks.

Having survived together, Li Changhuai didn’t argue—he was genuinely exhausted. He tossed the cigarette and lighter to Wang Chen, yawned, and went straight to bed, leaving Wang Chen alone in a new military jacket, sitting by the door in a daze.

Lighting a cigarette and taking a few drags to ward off mosquitoes, Wang Chen finally had the energy to survey the camp. The military’s refugee camp was orderly: five tents and a mobile living vehicle formed a small compound, with stone paths pressed by rollers, covered by thick rubber mats so rain wouldn’t hinder movement.

Solar-powered LED lights illuminated the area, with ordinary wire fences separating sections. Each compound had two entrances, fitted with simple isolation gates. The fences were chest-high, allowing survivors to easily leap into safer areas if zombies appeared, leaving them trapped on the other side.

Overall, the survivors' area was quite secure, though most refugees were still tense—even in sleep. In the span of one cigarette, Wang Chen heard two screams from different barracks. At first he was alert, but after two times, he relaxed. Clearly, nightmares weren’t exclusive to Han Li.