Mutation

Chapter 8: Whispers of Chaos: The Day Everything Changed

As I watched the screen, I saw her finally return home, struggling under the weight of two large bags that must have taken every ounce of strength she had left. She plopped down onto the couch, panting heavily, her exhaustion evident. Just as she barely had time to catch her breath, the door swung open, and in walked Liang Zhiyong, his lover Lili, and their little boy, Maomao.

“Come take a look!” she beamed, her voice brimming with excitement as she gestured to the bags. “I fought hard to get this for our little Maomao—a big tin of milk powder and a few packs of instant noodles…”

On the camera feed, the family huddled together, their chatter and laughter filling the air as they eagerly dug through the contents. They looked like a picture of family harmony, smiling and doting on one another, savoring their spoils as if the world outside didn’t harbor a lurking nightmare.

Liang’s mother began doting on little Maomao, her voice filled with warmth as she cradled him in her arms. Soon, she disappeared into the kitchen, and I could only imagine the chaos of her culinary ambitions. It was apparent she had emptied the fridge to prepare a grand meal—a full four-course feast complete with steaming soup. I remembered filling that fridge just days before, a futile effort since they’d never cared to stock it with essentials. Liang’s mother prided herself on her health-conscious habit of only buying fresh food daily, a habit that left them unprepared for the calamity unfolding outside.

“Don’t worry,” she said between bites, passing a chicken wing to Maomao. “The news said the government’s handling things. It won’t be long before order is restored.”

Liang nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Right… though I wouldn’t mind if it dragged on a little. Maybe long enough to teach that cunning Zhu Ting and those loan sharks a lesson.”

“She fooled us all, didn’t she?” Lili huffed, her voice laced with disdain. “Pretending to be so honest when she’s been hiding such a sly side all along.”

Liang’s mother sighed, shaking her head. “Should’ve kicked her out ages ago.”

And so, the three of them sat there, feasting and fuming, oblivious to the gathering storm outside. It was as if the world could crumble around them, but they were wrapped in their bubble of trivial grievances and petty arguments.

Beside me, my mother slammed her hand on the table, her fury palpable. “How could people be this heartless? After everything you did for them!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. “Mom, don’t worry. They don’t have enough supplies to last more than a couple of days.”

Their spoils consisted of space-consuming instant noodles—dozens of packs that offered barely enough sustenance for a couple of meals. There were frozen dumplings that, once stripped of their packaging, wouldn’t last long at all. Though they had managed to procure some milk powder for Maomao, they had only half a jug of water left. What they didn’t realize was that within a day, zombies would reach their building’s water valve, cutting off their supply completely.

Having watched enough of their familial “reunion,” I joined my mom for a simple lunch of biscuits. Later, she prepared my favorite dish from home: salted pork rice with peas and potatoes, stewing it on low heat. The rich aroma filled the room, a comforting reminder of better days amid the chaos outside. I devoured two bowls and washed it down with a hearty sip of rice soup. Strange how, even in the middle of this nightmare, with enough food and my mom by my side, I could still feel a glimmer of happiness.

After a short nap, I woke to the unsettling sounds of darkness settling outside and an alarming commotion rising from the streets. I pulled back the curtains, dread creeping into my heart as I peered out. The apartment complex across the street was overrun by zombies. A bloody group had just breached the gates, tearing into the guard on duty, who writhed in agony and then, within seconds, rose as one of them, joining the mindless c*****e.

Panicked cries echoed from nearby buildings, desperate neighbors venturing out to scavenge for supplies, only to be ambushed by the growing horde. It was a macabre ballet of survival, each movement choreographed by fear and desperation.

Back on my screen, Lili jolted up from the couch, terror etching her features. “Zhiyong, Zhiyong, what’s going on outside?”

Liang rushed to the peephole, peering through for a tense moment before turning back to her, his face ashen. “People across the street… they’re getting bitten. It’s spreading fast.” He held her tightly, his voice low and reassuring, even as panic simmered beneath the surface. “Stay inside, Lili, don’t leave. Whatever happens, we’re safe here as long as we stay put.”

“Oh, Zhiyong,” she sobbed, clinging to him tightly, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Their moment of intimacy felt surreal against the backdrop of impending doom. Here they were, wrapped in a false sense of security, while death was creeping ever closer. I couldn’t help but think about how quickly everything could unravel. I knew that fear could tear people apart or bind them together, but in this world, it seemed destined to do both.

Outside, the chaos intensified. I could hear screams mingling with the sounds of shuffling feet, the undead clawing their way toward unsuspecting victims. My heart raced, and I felt a familiar pang of dread in the pit of my stomach.

“What do we do?” my mom whispered, her voice barely above a tremor.

“We stay inside,” I replied firmly, my resolve hardening. “We wait this out. We have to stay calm.”

As the evening deepened, the shadows stretched longer, and the world outside morphed into a haunting tapestry of chaos and horror. I turned my attention back to the feed, where Liang, Lili, and Maomao sat in their bubble, laughing and eating as if the world were normal.

But the screams outside were growing louder, more desperate, a chilling reminder that their facade would soon shatter. I felt a knot tighten in my chest, an anticipation of the darkness that would soon swallow them whole.

Moments passed, and the family continued their meal, unaware of the horror encroaching upon them. But in that moment of normalcy, I couldn’t shake the feeling that their time was running out, just as ours might be. The facade of safety was crumbling, and with it, the illusion of peace in this fractured world.

As night fell, the once-familiar streets transformed into a hunting ground for the undead, while inside their apartment, the family feasted like kings unaware of the approaching storm. In a world teetering on the brink, would they emerge unscathed? Or would they, like so many others, be consumed by the chaos? My heart raced with the questions that hung heavy in the air, and I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation with the darkness that awaited us all.