Mutation

Chapter 13: Survival's Price: A Mother's Sacrifice

After a heartfelt discussion with my mother, I made a decision that felt both instinctive and necessary: I would send a box of essential supplies using my drone—a stash of solid alcohol, two small solar chargers, and two solar lamps. These items would address the pressing needs of a young mother and her son, providing solutions for cooking, communication, and lighting. But more than that, I felt a strong urge to help them, driven by a compassion I couldn’t ignore. If that little boy lost his mother, the chances of his survival would diminish drastically.

When the young mother received the package, her gratitude was palpable, a light in the darkness that surrounded us. "This really solves my big problem. I don’t know what to say," she expressed, her voice thick with emotion.

I replied with feigned nonchalance, “It’s nothing. I have plenty of these.” The truth was, I was holding onto my supplies by a thread, but in this new world, it was crucial to maintain a facade of abundance. Survival rules dictated that vulnerability could lead to disaster.

Over the next few days, my mood surprisingly brightened. Watching Liang Zhiyong’s family struggle provided me a sense of relief; they were enduring a harsh reality. Two days without food, surviving on a few sips of powdered milk and toilet bucket water—my heart ached for them, yet there was a strange satisfaction in witnessing their decline. As their supplies dwindled to almost nothing, panic settled in like a heavy fog.

The moment came when they were down to the last of the milk powder. Liang Zhiyong and his mother lunged for it simultaneously, an act of desperation that painted a vivid picture of their plight. Liang Zhiyong, younger and perhaps more reckless, pushed his mother aside and greedily licked the remnants from the container. Embarrassed but unwilling to admit defeat, he straightened up and declared, “Mom, I’ll find a way to get some food.”

Liang Zhiyong was the quintessential mama's boy, lacking any real sense of responsibility. He had spoken of going out to search for food several times, but each time he approached the stairs, the sight of the zombies lurking outside terrified him back into the safety of our shared hell.

Speaking of zombies, Ro Lili’s former husband was particularly relentless, prowling around the 22nd floor like a predator waiting to ambush anyone who dared to venture out. In a moment of desperate bravery, Liang’s mother decided it was time to act. Resigning herself to her fate, she ventured forth, clutching a kitchen knife, convinced that at her age, dying wouldn’t be a great loss.

Liang Zhiyong shed a few faux tears, but in reality, he was reluctant to let his mother go. “You’ll be back,” he stammered, uncertainty tainting his bravado. His mother wobbled out the door, determination etched on her face. Unfortunately for her, as soon as she descended the stairs, her former husband lunged at her with unbridled hunger. In a panic, she tossed the knife, the blade striking him in the forehead. To her horror, it had little effect, and his pursuit continued unabated.

Terrified, she sprinted back, barely making it through the door in time to escape. Both of them were shaken, and as they stood panting in the cramped hallway, the realization hit them: they needed a plan, and fast. They required a scapegoat to clear a path.

In a moment of desperation, they opened the long-sealed storage room. Inside lay Ro Lili and her son, filthy and barely clinging to life. Ro Lili looked up with pleading eyes, silently begging for help, but her silent hope went unanswered.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Liang Zhiyong seized her child and tossed him toward his mother. "Use him to clear the way. Let them reunite," he ordered coldly, his voice devoid of empathy.

Ro Lili’s eyes widened in horror, muffled cries escaping her lips as she desperately crawled toward them. Liang Zhiyong kicked her away, dismissing her plight with the cruelty of a survivor too focused on his own needs.

With grim determination, Liang's mother dragged the unconscious boy out the door. At the stairway, she pushed him into the corridor. The zombies, driven solely by instinct, lunged at the child, tearing into him without hesitation. Liang's mother fled in terror, rushing down the stairs as the screams echoed behind her, haunting the silence like a ghost.

I watched through my binoculars and monitors, tracking Liang’s mother as she descended. A mix of relief and dread filled me; she had managed to navigate several floors without encountering resistance. But as she reached the tenth floor, a shrill scream pierced the air: “Help! Zhiyong!”

In that moment, my heart sank. She had been bitten.

Hearing his mother’s cries, Liang Zhiyong cowered behind a door, trembling with fear, completely unwilling to help. The screams lingered in the air, gradually fading into the growls of the zombies.

Liang’s mother—the same woman who had bullied me for years and called me a useless chick—was now gone. A rush of satisfaction coursed through me, but it wasn’t enough. The people who had wronged me were not limited to just her. Each moment spent in this nightmare reminded me of the day they had bound me and tossed me into a horde of zombies, the excruciating pain and terror forever etched in my memory.

Liang Zhiyong stood up dazed, covering his face as he began to sob. “Mom! Mom!” His cries were hollow, the weight of his guilt palpable.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. When he had talked about going out to find food, why hadn’t he thought about his mother? Now, he was left with nothing but guilt for failing to protect her. His tears felt insincere, like crocodile tears, steeped in hypocrisy.

As I observed him, a strange sensation washed over me. In the shadows behind him, I noticed a dark figure lurking, watching silently… I blinked, trying to clear my mind, but the figure remained. My heart raced, uncertainty coiling in my stomach. The shadow was watching him—was it a survivor, or something much worse?

The fight for survival continued, not just against the flesh-hungry monsters outside but against the very humanity we clung to in this desolate world. And as I grappled with the reality of my situation, I realized that the true monsters were not always the ones that roamed the streets. Sometimes, they were the people we thought we could trust. The true battle lay ahead, one where survival meant navigating the treacherous waters of loyalty, betrayal, and the haunting memories of the past.