novelsite Chapter 9 Desperate Rescue
Chapter 9 Desperate Rescue
It was 8:49 PM.
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei squatted at the entrance of a narrow alley on the east side of the archives, the moonlight filtered through the tall buildings into a thin slit. The alley was less than a meter wide, and the mold on the walls on both sides was indistinct in the darkness.
He looked at the main building of the archive: four stories high, with a gray-white exterior and most of the windows broken. The fire escape on the east side extended from the second floor to the roof, but the entrance was blocked by an overturned bread truck.
"The first-floor window," he lowered his voice, "the third from the left, the glass is broken, climb in through there."
Qin Wei nodded and gripped the steel pipe tightly.
The two moved close to the wall. The window was about 1.5 meters from the ground, and the shards of glass remaining on the window frame looked like fangs. Zhang Xun first used a steel pipe to pry open the inner curtains—a thick blackout drape, covered in dust and dark brown stains. Then he braced himself against the window frame with both hands, flipped over, and jumped in. He bent his knees to cushion the landing, but the shards of glass still pierced his trouser leg, causing a sharp pain.
He froze, waiting.
There was no response. The room was pitch black, with only the faint light coming in from the window outlining the scene: an overturned bookshelf, scattered documents like white scraps of paper, an overturned desk, and drawers violently ripped open.
He quickly got up, returned to the window, reached out, grabbed Qin Wei's wrist outside the window, and pulled her in.
Qin Wei swayed slightly when she landed, but quickly regained her balance. She squatted down next to him, took out a flashlight wrapped in a red plastic bag from her backpack, and turned it to the dimmest setting.
The light swept across the room, illuminating a mark on the wall—the number "7" written in black marker, with an arrow pointing towards the stairs. The handwriting was messy, as if it had been left in a hurry.
Zhang Xun leaned closer to take a look and instinctively felt that it was related to the SWAT team.
Qin Wei moved the beam of her flashlight to a corner—where there was a pool of dried blood, sprayed out and extending from the ground to the wall. Several brass-colored bullet casings lay scattered beside the bloodstain.
"At least two days ago," Qin Wei finally spoke, her voice extremely low, "the blood turned black."
Zhang Xun recalled what Su Nian had said on the walkie-talkie: "We've been trapped for three days." If the SWAT team was still here two days ago, then she had indeed been left behind.
They left the archives and moved towards the stairs. Zhang Xun walked ahead, a compound bow in his hand, an arrow nocked, but he didn't draw it—at such close range, the bow wouldn't be of much use.
The fire escape staircase is at the end of the corridor, with the green emergency exit light on the wall dimly lit.
---
It was 9:14 PM.
The two of them froze as soon as they reached the stairs.
On the platform in the middle of the stairs stood an infected person. Male, wearing a security guard uniform, his shoulders were slumped, his back to them, and he was breathing heavily like a broken bellows, his head hanging down at an unnatural angle.
Zhang Xun immediately made a shushing gesture, pulled Qin Wei back slowly, and backed against the wall, step by step, back into the corridor.
But just as I stepped around the corner, I heard a dragging sound behind me.
They whirled around—about fifteen meters away on the other side of the corridor, a figure was slowly moving toward them. It was a woman in a business suit, her left leg dragging on the ground as if broken, each step making a screeching sound. Her face was turned toward them, her eyes a murky grayish-white in the darkness, and she emitted a sticky, muffled groan.
A pincer attack from both sides.
Zhang Xun gripped the steel pipe tightly, and Qin Wei instantly held her breath.
There is no escape route.
Qin Wei gestured: she was going to distract the female infected person so that he could take the opportunity to deal with the infected security guard on the stairs.
Zhang Xun shook his head—it was too risky, and besides, he had no confidence in his archery skills. But Qin Wei had already begun to move, her steps as light as a cat's, slowly approaching the female infected woman who was facing them.
Once targeted, Qin Wei would be in danger. Zhang Xun had no more room for hesitation. He took a deep breath, nocked an arrow, and drew the bow. His right arm muscles tensed as he felt the tension in the bowstring, aiming at the back of the infected security guard's head—the brainstem, theoretically a kill shot.
But the target was swaying slightly and irregularly.
He held his breath and released the string the instant the infected person seemed to turn around.
"Whoosh—"
The sound of the arrow piercing the air was like a scream in the silence. Zhang Xun saw the arrow hit him—but not the back of his head, but the back of his left shoulder.
The infected person fell forward, letting out a sharp scream—not a cry of pain, but an alarm, a call to action.
It wasn't dead. It struggled on the ground, trying to get up, the arrows swaying with its movements.
Zhang Xun did not hesitate. He rushed over, pulled out the outdoor knife, knelt on the infected person's back, pressed his left hand against the back of the head, and aimed the tip of the knife at the back of the ear with his right hand—the thinnest part of the skull.
The moment the knife pierced through, he felt resistance. First, the hardness of the bone, then a soft "plop" sound, like piercing a water-filled balloon.
The infected person's body tensed up suddenly, then relaxed. The wet moaning stopped.
Zhang Xun pulled out the knife, and blood flowed from the scabbard, warm and carrying a sweet, rotten stench. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the lingering effects of adrenaline.
"Let's go!" Qin Wei's voice came from the other end of the corridor.
He turned and ran back, and saw Qin Wei using a steel pipe to hold up the arm of another infected person, whose mouth was less than 30 centimeters from her shoulder.
Zhang Xun grabbed a broken table leg from the ground and rushed over, smashing it against the infected man's head from the side. The first blow made him wobble, turn his head to look at him, and let out an angry roar. The second blow, delivered with all his might, broke the table leg, and the infected man's head tilted to one side, but he didn't fall.
Taking advantage of the moment, Qin Wei stabbed it in the eye with a steel pipe—not a sharp point, but a blunt one, but enough to make it stagger. Then she raised her leg and kicked its knee; the infected creature's severed leg could not support it and it collapsed to its knees.
Zhang Xun didn't give it a chance to get up. He pounced on it and stabbed it in the back of the head with his knife from behind—the same spot, the same resistance, the same "thud" sound.
This time, his hands trembled even more violently.
"Let's go!" Qin Wei grabbed his arm. "Making noise will attract even more people!"
The two rushed up the stairs. Behind them, even more roars came from downstairs, converging from all directions like a chorus from hell.
---
9:27 PM.
Going up the fire escape from the second floor to the rooftop, the iron gate was ajar, and faint moonlight shone through the crack.
Zhang Xun gestured: Qin Wei would go in and flank from the side, while he would go in from the front. His legs were trembling, not from fear, but from exhaustion after his adrenaline was depleted. His hands still reeked of that putrid stench.
He pushed open the door, and moonlight poured in.
The rooftop was spacious, about 200 square meters, surrounded by a concrete railing that reached waist height. In a corner, a thin figure huddled in the shadows, leaning against a water tank, holding something in his arms.
"Su Nian," Zhang Xun lowered his voice, "it's me, Zhang Xun."
The figure did not move.
Zhang Xun took two steps forward, the moonlight illuminating his face. He raised his hands: "Su Nian, look at me."
The figure slowly raised her head. In the moonlight, Zhang Xun saw her face—pale, sunken, with chapped lips, and cloudy but still focused eyes. She was wearing a SWAT uniform, tattered and torn, with the epaulets ripped off.
She held a pistol in her hand, the muzzle pointed at Zhang Xun, and her hand was trembling.
"...Zhang Xun?" Her voice was like sandpaper scraping, "...Is it really you?"
"It's me."
"...How can you prove it?"
Zhang Xun paused for a moment, then removed the composite bow from his back and turned the handle toward her.
"You gave it to me," he said, "You said you didn't want to see me die."
Su Nian stared at the bow for a long time. Then, her shoulders suddenly slumped, the muzzle of the gun dropped to the ground, and tears streamed down her face silently.
"...You really came," she said, her voice as soft as a sigh, "I thought...I thought you wouldn't come..."
Zhang Xun strode over and knelt down beside her. She was much thinner than he remembered; her cheeks were sunken, and her wrists were so thin they looked like they might break at any moment. Her body temperature was very low; even in the moonlight, he could see she was shivering.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
Su Nian shook her head, then nodded, and then smiled bitterly: "...My legs are weak. I haven't eaten for three days, and I finished my water yesterday."
Qin Wei stepped out of the shadows, and Su Nian suddenly looked up, raising her gun again, but Zhang Xun held her hand down.
"One of us," he said, "the doctor."
Qin Wei knelt beside Su Nian and quickly examined her—her pupils had a sluggish light reflex, her skin had poor elasticity, and her pulse was fast and weak.
"Severe dehydration, hypothermia," she said. "Unable to walk on her own. We have to take turns carrying her."
Zhang Xun nodded. He opened his backpack, took out compressed biscuits and a water bottle, and handed them to Su Nian.
She took the water bottle, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped it. She drank slowly, holding each sip in her mouth for a long time before swallowing. Then she took a small bite of a compressed biscuit, chewing it for a long time, her eyes reddening again.
"...I thought," she continued, "I thought you wouldn't come. The walkie-talkie...the battery was almost dead, I didn't dare leave it on..."
"We received it," Zhang Xun said. "It was the signal you sent at 1 a.m. yesterday. Lin Xiaotang received it, but she doesn't know you and only told me after her shift ended."
Su Nian was stunned for a moment: "...Lin Xiaotang?"
"She's minding the shop," Zhang Xun said, "waiting for us to get back."
Su Nian stared down at the water bottle in her hand for a long time. Then she said, "...The rest of the SWAT team...got separated during the evacuation. I covered the rear...and then I got trapped here. The ammunition...we ran out three days ago. The water...we finished yesterday. I thought..."
She didn't finish speaking.
Zhang Xun stood up, then squatted down with his back to her: "Get on. I'll carry you."
Su Nian hesitated for a moment, then climbed onto his back. Her body was much lighter than Zhang Xun had expected, but the warm, muscular touch against his back was undeniable proof that she was alive. Her arms wrapped around his neck, cold and trembling.
"...Zhang Xun," she whispered in his ear, her voice damp with breath, "...thank you."
He didn't answer. He thought of the two corpses downstairs, the resistance as the knife tip pierced their skulls, and the cloying, putrid stench. His stomach clenched again, but he held it in.
"Hurry up," he said, "we're going home."
---
9:37 PM.
Returning the way they came was impossible—the infected downstairs were alerted and gathered at the first-floor stairwell, numbering at least a dozen, their roars echoing in the enclosed space.
Zhang Xun carried Su Nian on his back, while Qin Wei scouted ahead. They moved along the edge of the rooftop, searching for another way down.
There is a maintenance passage on the east side, with an iron ladder leading to the fourth-floor window, but the ladder is rusty and looks like it could break at any moment.
"I'll go down first," Qin Wei said, "to make sure it's safe."
She tucked the steel pipe into the side pocket of her backpack, gripped the ladder with both hands, and slowly descended. Rust left red marks on her gloves, and one step made a dangerous creak, but she didn't stop.
The fourth-floor window was open, leading to a storage room filled with discarded file boxes. Qin Wei climbed inside, confirmed there were no infected individuals, and then waved towards the rooftop.
Zhang Xun put Su Nian down and let her sit by the railing. "Can you grab the ladder?" he asked.
Su Nian nodded, but her hands were trembling.
Zhang Xun sighed. He helped Su Nian to the wall, took off his coat, and twisted it into a sturdy rope. "Raise your hands," he whispered, wrapping the rope tightly around their waists, securing Su Nian firmly to his back. He then tugged at the knot to make sure it wouldn't come loose. "Hold on to my shoulders, don't let go."
He hoisted Su Nian onto his back, grabbed the ladder, and began to descend. Each step tested the weight-bearing capacity; the rustling metal fell like red snow in the moonlight.
On the third step, the ladder suddenly wobbled. Zhang Xun's foot slipped, and his body slammed against the wall. Su Nian let out a muffled groan on his back, her arms instinctively tightening around his neck. Zhang Xun gritted his teeth to regain his balance, gripping the step tightly with one hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other. He waited for the ladder to slow its swaying before continuing to move down. Each step was extremely slow, his fingertips turning white from the effort, the cloth rope on his back stretched taut.
From the fourth-floor window, Qin Wei leaned out, reached out to help Zhang Xun, and steadily supported his arm as she helped him inside.
As soon as Zhang Xun landed, carrying Su Nian on his back, his legs gave way, and he and Su Nian fell heavily to their knees. Instinctively, he used his hands to brace himself against the ground, desperately protecting his back from any impact to Su Nian. He had injured his knees while climbing over the wall, and only now was he feeling the pain.
Qin Wei helped Zhang Xun untie Su Nian from his back.
"Let's go," Zhang Xun gritted his teeth and stood up. "Go down the west staircase, cross the parking lot, and enter the alley."
Qin Wei nodded, supporting Su Nian, while Zhang Xun brought up the rear.
There were no infected people on the west staircase, but with each floor he descended, Zhang Xun could hear roars coming from downstairs, like some distant tide rising and falling in the darkness.
In the parking lot, moonlight was fragmented by the buildings, illuminating several abandoned cars and even more shadows. They moved close to the walls, their footsteps as light as ghosts.
Then, Su Nian tripped.
Her legs were too weak, and she stepped on an aluminum can. The sound of the metal rolling on the concrete floor was like a thunderclap in the silence.
The distant roars suddenly stopped. Then, more roars converged from all directions.
"Run!" Zhang Xun shouted.
He carried Su Nian on his back and rushed towards the other exit of the parking lot. Qin Wei followed closely behind, holding a steel pipe in her hand.
Behind me, footsteps, dragging sounds, and that sticky breathing came like a tide.
Zhang Xun rushed into the alley, turning three corners in a row. His lungs were burning, and Su Nian on his back felt like a stone, pulling at his center of gravity. His knees ached, his hands trembled, and that convulsing feeling in his stomach returned—not because of running, but because the image of the two corpses downstairs was playing on a loop in his mind.
After the third bend, he stopped, pressed himself against the wall, and listened.
The roars continued in the distance, about fifty meters away, before gradually subsiding. They had lost their target, or perhaps they had lost the will to pursue.
He squatted down, put Su Nian down, then bent over and began to gag. This time, he vomited up some things—porridge, stomach acid, and some kind of bitter bile.
Qin Wei squatted down beside him, her hand resting on his back. Her fingers were trembling, but her voice was steady: "The first time you kill someone... it's always like this."
"Not human," Zhang Xun said, panting, his voice hoarse.
"It used to be," Qin Wei said, "...it used to be."
Zhang Xun looked down at his hands. His gloves were stained with that dark red liquid, which emitted a sweet, rotten stench.
He bent over and began to dry heave again.
"Me too," Qin Wei said, "before... I only dissected corpses."
She paused for a moment, then added, "Living people... are different. They move. They make sounds."
Su Nian leaned against the wall, looking at them with a complicated expression. She wanted to say something, but her lips moved without making a sound.
The walkie-talkie suddenly crackled to life with static, then Lin Xiaotang's voice came through, trembling with tears: "Brother Xun? Can you hear me? Are you all alright?"
Zhang Xun grabbed the walkie-talkie, his hands still trembling: "...I heard you. The person has been found. We're preparing to return."
"...Okay," Lin Xiaotang's voice paused, then softened, "Come back. You all have to come back."
Zhang Xun turned off the walkie-talkie, looked at Qin Wei, and then at Su Nian. Their faces were as pale as paper in the moonlight, all bearing the exhaustion of someone who had survived a near-death experience.
"Let's go," he said softly, "home."
---
It was 11:15 p.m.
When the three returned to the back door of the store, Lin Xiaotang was already waiting there. The door was ajar, and her face was only a blurry outline in the darkness, but Zhang Xun could see her eyes, which shone with an astonishing light.
She saw Zhang Xun carrying a woman on his back, paused for a moment, and then immediately made way for him.
"she……"
"Su Nian," Zhang Xun said, "is dehydrated and needs rest."
Qin Wei helped Su Nian to a chair on the first floor and immediately began to examine her—first, she gave her warm sugar water to replenish her strength, then wrapped her body tightly in a thick blanket to keep her warm, and then wiped her face and hands with a warm towel to help her recover.
Zhang Xun stood to the side, looking at his hands. His clothes were still stained with blood, his gloves were gone, but his fingers still felt sticky. He smelled his hands—there was still that sweet, rotten stench, even after he had wiped them with alcohol.
He strode to the bathroom, closed the door, and subconsciously turned on the faucet.
The water was completely still, and he suddenly realized that the water had stopped flowing a long time ago.
He grabbed the toilet paper next to the toilet, dipped it in soap, and rubbed it hard once, twice, three times until his skin turned red and hot, but the sticky, bloody smell seemed to have seeped into his bones and wouldn't go away no matter what.
He looked up at the mirror. The person in the mirror was pale, with dark circles under his eyes and chapped lips—just like Su Nian, only to a different degree.
He remembered the resistance as the knife tip pierced his skull. He remembered the soft "thud." He remembered the infected person's final twitches before collapsing.
He bent over and dry heaved again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to vomit.
There was a soft knock on the door. Then Lin Xiaotang's voice came through: "Brother Xun?"
He opened the door. Lin Xiaotang stood in the doorway, holding a glass of warm water, her eyes red-rimmed, but she didn't cry.
"Are you... alright?" she asked.
Zhang Xun took the water glass and took a sip. The water was at the perfect temperature, with a comforting texture.
"I'm alright," he said, his voice hoarse, "just... a little tired."
Lin Xiaotang stared at him for a long time. Then she reached out and gently grasped his fingers—the hand that had killed someone, still trembling slightly.
"You're back," she said softly, "you promised me."
Zhang Xun looked at her. There was fear in her eyes, but even more so, a stubborn trust.
"I promised you," he said, "and I kept my promise."
Lin Xiaotang nodded, then looked at Su Nian on the sofa. The thin, frail woman was curled up in the blanket, like a wounded cat.
"She..." Lin Xiaotang hesitated for a moment, "Is she the person you're talking about? The one who gave you the bow?"
"yes."
"Will she...stay?"
Zhang Xun didn't answer immediately. He looked at Qin Wei, who was organizing first-aid supplies. Her movements were quick and steady, but her fingers were trembling—slightly, almost imperceptibly, but definitely there.
"Yes," he said, "at least...until she recovers."
Lin Xiaotang nodded and didn't say anything more. She walked to the sofa and looked at Su Nian's face for a long time.
Su Nian stirred in her unconscious state, her lips parted, and she uttered a muffled murmur: "...Zhang Xun..."
Lin Xiaotang paused for a moment, then gently took her hand. The hand was cold, but still warm.
"Go to sleep," she said softly, "He's back. We're all back."
Midnight.
When Su Nian woke up, the first thing she saw was the ceiling, and then Lin Xiaotang's face.
"You..." Her voice was hoarse.
"Lin Xiaotang," she said, "are you hungry? I cooked some porridge."
Su Nian paused for a moment, then nodded.
Lin Xiaotang brought over a bowl of porridge, sat down next to her, and watched her eat slowly. Every bite was taken with care, as if she were savoring something precious.
"Thank you," Su Nian said. "When I... can move again, I'll teach you other things."
Lin Xiaotang laughed: "What?"
"Noodles," Su Nian said, "I only know how to cook noodles. But they taste better than porridge."
"Okay," Lin Xiaotang said, "I'll wait for you."
One o'clock in the morning.
Zhang Xun sat in the corner, looking at his hands. The cloying, putrid stench had finally faded.
Qin Wei walked over and sat down next to him. Her face was still pale, but she was much calmer now.
"How is she?" Zhang asked.
"It's stable," Qin Wei said. "It will take a few days to recover."
They were silent for a moment.
"The first time I killed...that thing," Qin Wei said, "was at the hospital. It used to be my patient; I knew him."
Zhang Xun looked at her.
"I threw up for a long time," she said, "longer than you."
Zhang Xun didn't speak. He reached out and grasped her fingers—they were cold and trembling slightly, but steady.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
Qin Wei looked at him, her lips twitching as if she wanted to smile, but she didn't: "You promised to come back. I promised to help you."
Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn was approaching on April 14th.
But at this moment, in this small shop, four people sat together, still shaken by the aftermath of the killing, and filled with a complex and indescribable warmth.
He looked at the sofa—Su Nian was fast asleep, and Lin Xiaotang was next to her, her head tilted to the side with her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.
He looked at Qin Wei again—she also had her eyes closed, her head gently resting against the wall, her nerves, which had been tense all night, finally completely relaxed.
He looked at his hands—still trembling, but no longer the hands that had killed.
He might kill again tomorrow.
But at this moment, they are all still alive. That's enough.
[End of Chapter Nine]