Mutation

Chapter 7: Survival at Sundown

I glanced down at my scraped and bloody knee, the stinging pain a harsh reminder of my fall. "I wasn’t bitten—just took a tumble while grabbing supplies," I quickly explained, trying to sound casual. At the time, their questioning felt like concern, a strange kind of care amidst the chaos. But reflecting on it now, I realized that if a zombie had indeed bitten me, they would have likely kicked me out without a second thought, abandoning me to my fate.

With a scoff, I powered up the surveillance camera, the monitor flickering to life. The feed displayed Liang’s apartment, where he was pacing nervously, his movements erratic, like a cornered animal. His mother shuffled over, a frown etched deeply across her face. "Why aren’t you at work?" she asked, her voice barely concealing her disappointment.

Liang snapped back, "Work? That crazy woman Zhu Ting took out an online loan using my information!"

His mother spat, her disgust palpable. "If she wants to ruin herself, let her. Divorce her and let her drown in that debt alone."

"Alone?" he shouted, his voice rising in frustration. "The loan’s in my name!" His eyes bulged with rage, nearly frothing at the mouth. "I’m going to find her—I'll make sure she pays for this."

Amused, I leaned back in my chair, watching his tantrum unfold. They were so wrapped up in their petty dramas, completely oblivious to the true horror that was beginning to seep into our lives. Beside me, my mom was seething, her face flushed with indignation. "How dare they? That family has no decency! I should give them a piece of my mind—"

"Mom, don’t bother," I said calmly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "They’ll get what’s coming to them."

Just then, the front door camera picked up a faint, muffled sound—a woman crying. Liang opened the door cautiously, and a figure in a red coat stumbled into his arms. It was Luo Lili, her face pale and eyes wide with terror. "Zhi Yong, the streets… there are maniacs everywhere! They’re eating people!" Her voice trembled as she spoke.

She pulled out her phone, frantically showing him a video she had recorded. His face drained of color as he took in the horrific images. "Where’s Mao Mao? We need to get him from the daycare!" he shouted, turning to his mother with urgency. "Grab some food from the supermarket—now!"

The two of them bolted out of the apartment, leaving Liang’s mother standing in the doorway, a look of bewilderment etched on her face. After a moment of hesitation, she shuffled out with her purse, clearly out of her depth in this new reality. I sighed, realizing that Liang’s mother had likely known about his affair with Luo Lili all along—her indifference spoke volumes.

Moving to the balcony, I watched Liang’s mother leave the complex, looking frazzled and out of place. At one point, she was jostled by a frantic crowd and stumbled to the ground. Before I could look away, a loud announcement blared from the speakers throughout the complex: "Due to unforeseen circumstances, the complex will enforce an emergency lockdown. Each household may send only one person out per day to procure necessities."

"These property managers are doing a decent job," my mom muttered, her tone impressed.

I had, in fact, called them an hour ago, urging them to take swift action to secure the premises. The zombies hadn’t reached our complex yet, but every moment counted. Outside, the sounds of panic grew louder—shrieks, wails, and the distant crash of chaos.

In an effort to steady our nerves, we turned on the news. The anchor, with a grim expression, referred to the situation as an "anomalous disturbance," urging citizens to find safe places and await rescue. The same chilling message buzzed across our phones: "Seek shelter, stay indoors." But on social media, the grim reality was unfolding. Videos showed mutilated bodies, blood pooling in the streets, and the anguished sobs of people who couldn’t escape the horror outside.

I focused on one clip, studying it closely. It was staggering how quickly a person transformed once bitten—less than a minute. There was barely enough time to flee, and after the change, those once-familiar faces became nothing more than mindless predators, driven by an insatiable hunger. They were no longer human; they had become relentless killing machines, and the thought sent chills down my spine.

"Mom," I said, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. "No matter what happens, we can’t go outside. It’s too dangerous."

She nodded, visibly shaken, her hands trembling as she held onto the armrest of the chair. "I just called the neighbors. The virus has spread to our hometown, too. They weren’t prepared… all they can do is wait, helpless."

"Exactly," I murmured, recalling the chaos of the last outbreak. "Last time, the virus erupted in hundreds of places simultaneously. It’s… almost unnatural." My mind flickered back to my last moments trapped in that storage room, the fear and the darkness. "Even when I died, no one ever discovered the source of this virus."

My mom moved closer, wrapping her arms around me, grounding me in her warmth. "Tingting, don’t talk about dying. We’re going to survive this, you hear me?"

I nodded firmly, forcing a smile to reassure her, even though my heart raced with dread.

After a while, my mom pointed to the screen, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look," she said, her eyes wide with surprise. "Liang’s mother is back home."

We turned our attention back to the monitor, watching as she struggled through the apartment door, visibly shaken and burdened by her experience. I didn’t need to see her to know what that trip had cost her; supplies were already running low, and the scene outside was only getting worse.

The tension in the air felt thick enough to slice, and we both knew that the quiet before the storm was only a prelude to the horrors that awaited us. As we braced ourselves for what was to come, I couldn’t help but wonder: how long could we hold on in this nightmare? And would we be able to emerge unscathed when it was all over?