The Last Realm of Rust and Dust

Chapter 7

A deafening boom suddenly split the azure sky. Anderson, his hand tightening around his rifle, watched Ethan Williams and Noah Brown crumple to the ground.

He recognized the signal flare as belonging to Owen Thompson's group. "What does that mean?" he asked the two men.

Ethan, his face swelling from Anderson's punch, spat a mouthful of blood and sneered. "Do you think we'd tell you?"

Anderson, wasting no time, aimed his gun at Ethan. Noah quickly intervened, "Don't shoot! It could be that Owen and the others found the girl, or maybe they're in danger. In any case, we..."

Anderson's expression flickered. Ethan interrupted Noah, yelling, "Someone actually came to save you? You monster..."

A gunshot echoed. The bullet lodged itself in Ethan's shoulder blade, silencing him instantly.

Anderson, however, didn't kill them. Evie's face flashed in his mind. The little girl wouldn't want their blood staining this land. And right now, he had no time to waste on them—again, because of Evie.

Anderson was a man who sought revenge but rarely repaid kindness. After all, in all these years, no one had ever helped him. He had always been alone, struggling to survive. Yet, he wanted to repay Evie. She had saved his life, his heart. She was the one who had pulled him back from the brink of despair.

Anderson never returned favors, except for Evie.

Without hesitation, he turned and strode in the opposite direction, remembering that Evie had been heading north when they first met.

He left Ethan and Noah behind. Ethan, fighting through the pain, picked up the other gun that had fallen to the ground. His hand trembled as he aimed it at Anderson, but Noah pushed it down.

"Don't cause trouble. We have to admit, we can't kill him... He's an immortal monster..." Noah stared at Anderson's retreating figure, his eyes filled with fear.

Ethan, enraged, dropped the gun and slammed his fist onto the dry, hard ground.

...

As the sky darkened, a sense of worry crept into Anderson's heart. Finding someone in the wasteland was no easy feat, especially now... He was also starting to lose his sense of direction, unable to even find his way back to Evie's dwelling.

Yes, the wasteland was vast, and he was lost. All he knew was that he was heading north.

But he had to admit, sometimes fate was a truly wondrous thing. It was fate that guided him forward, using the threads of destiny. Of course, fate didn't lead him directly to Evie, but he did see Owen Thompson.

Owen seemed to be in trouble. The four of them were engaged in a fierce battle against a horde of zombies. Their combat skills were impressive, managing to hold their own against the overwhelming number of undead.

Anderson knew they usually operated in pairs. One group must have had the misfortune of encountering the zombies and had to call for backup.

He slowly raised his hand, aiming the gun at Owen's temple. The dim light made it difficult, and it took him a while to get a clear shot.

Just then, he heard Owen say, "We can't waste any more time with these zombies! Liam, which way did that girl run?"

"North!"

"We're heading north too." Owen kicked away a zombie blocking his path and took off running.

The others followed suit. They had no choice; they had already wasted too much time dealing with the zombies.

Anderson lowered his gun and followed them, taking in the chaotic scene.

In the dim light, a few scattered green weeds swayed in the wind, then were trampled into the dry earth by the fleeing group.

Anderson thought, if the little girl saw this, she would be furious. He had seen her carefully removing weeds from her medicinal herb garden and then transplanting them with care onto the grassy patch at the edge. She treated all plants, flowers or weeds, with equal respect.

As he was thinking this, something surprising happened. The zombies, who had been relentlessly pursuing Owen and the others, suddenly stopped. They crouched beside the trampled weeds, reaching out with their decaying hands and carefully lifting the delicate but tenacious plants with their lethal claws.

Then, instead of continuing their chase, the zombies huddled around the weeds, muttering amongst themselves. Anderson couldn't understand their words, so he simply** them and continued north.

The zombies saw him, but only stared with their cloudy eyes, making no further move.

By now, darkness had completely descended. In the silence, Anderson could clearly hear Owen's footsteps. Splitting up here wasn't a good idea, but they had separated into two pairs, seemingly determined to find Evie.

Anderson silently followed Owen. With Owen practically walking into his trap, he had no reason to let this opportunity slip away.

Owen seemed distracted, or perhaps anxious, and didn't notice the danger lurking behind him. He walked with urgency, his companion barely keeping up.

Then, they got separated.

A cold, playful smile curved Anderson's lips.

Soon, they were alone, except for the sudden approaching footsteps behind Owen and the sound of a gunshot.

"Didn't find who you were looking for, but someone unexpected showed up instead." Owen, with his heightened vigilance, dodged Anderson's attack and stood his ground, speaking calmly.

Anderson, without even blinking, launched his second attack.

They grappled, kicking up dust.

Anderson had underestimated Owen's progress in his skills, and Owen hadn't expected Anderson's recovery to be so swift. Continuing the fight wouldn't benefit either of them.

Owen used his elbow to knock the gun from Anderson's hand. "You're not my target right now," he said in a low voice. "When Liam and the others arrive, do you think you can defeat all of us?"

Anderson tugged at his lips. "Owen, you're too arrogant. You thought you could handle me alone, sending Michael Wilson away. Now that you realize you're outmatched, you want to retreat? There's no such thing in this world."

With that, he wasted no more words. He hooked the gun on the ground with his foot, aimed it at Owen's temple, and fired. But human reflexes in the face of danger were unparalleled. The bullet grazed Owen's face, leaving a bloody streak.

Anderson fired a second shot without hesitation, but the gun was empty. He tossed it aside, strode toward the fallen Owen, and threw a punch.

Owen dodged, and Anderson's fist slammed into the hard ground. Just as they were about to resume their fight, footsteps and shouts came from the distance.

Anderson grabbed Owen by the collar. "Remember this wasteland? We met here, and now I'll settle things with you here too—Owen, as long as you remain in this wasteland, I'll be lurking in the shadows, playing with you."

Anderson stood up, kicked Owen away, and strode off.

Owen, covered in dust, coughed and touched the bleeding gash on his face. His expression shifted from calm to icy.

"I shouldn't have shown you mercy back then, Anderson," he murmured, then rose to his feet, his posture straight and unaffected by the fight.

Anderson quickly left Owen behind. After a long while, he flexed his fingers. The soil of the wasteland was mostly dry and hard, and the impact of his punch had not been pleasant.

As he walked, he raised his hand to check his knuckles for any scrapes or bleeding. But before he could take a closer look, his foot found empty air, and he plunged into a large pit.

...

Evie, who had fallen into the pit in the evening, had tried climbing and calling for help but to no avail. She had wisely chosen to lie down at the bottom of the pit, conserving her energy.

Sitting amidst the dust, she sighed, staring at the disarray around her. Just then, her water bottle tilted slightly, and she quickly steadied it. Looking at the bottle, she thought, this was probably the silver lining in her misfortune. She always had the habit of carrying water with her.

She had been in similar situations before, and it was always a single bottle of water that helped her through, keeping her from going thirsty. There would always be a way out, and all she needed to do was wait.

Evie leaned against the earthen wall, quietly lost in thought. Gradually, darkness fell, and only when the remaining light could no longer illuminate her surroundings did she slowly close her eyes, trying to fall asleep.

At that moment, footsteps sounded from above, startling her awake. Just as she was about to call for help, she felt something fall into the pit.

Evie clutched her hoe and water bag tightly. Although she could only see a vague outline, she stared at it intently.

After a while, the person got up from the ground. Evie could clearly feel his gaze on her, seeming speechless and helpless.

Confused, she blinked her dark, clear eyes and took a small step back, maintaining her distance.

Just then, the person finally spoke. "What a coincidence," he said.

The two short words didn't sound like Anderson's voice. "Coincidence... what?" she asked, puzzled.

"We just met this morning," Anderson said, walking over and sitting down not far from her.

Evie finally recognized him. "Oh, it's you! That is quite a coincidence."

Anderson hummed in response, then looked up, estimating whether he could climb out of the pit with his bare hands. He stretched his ten sore fingers as he pondered.

Evie, shrouded in darkness, shifted closer to where Anderson sat. Then, as if trying to break the silence, she asked, "Did you come back specifically to save me?"

Anderson's gaze dropped from the top of the pit. He turned his head slightly and clearly saw Evie's eyes, black as night, bright as stars, and clear as the moon, fixed on his face.

His pupils constricted, his gaze involuntarily following her star-like eyes. For a long time, he couldn't respond.

Evie, unaware that Anderson was staring at her in the darkness, only felt that his gaze was... strange. She couldn't find the right words to describe it, but it made her feel uncomfortable.

Just as she was about to change the subject or remain silent, Anderson, whom she thought wouldn't respond, suddenly spoke in a slow, leisurely tone, "Yes, I came back specifically to find you."

Evie... truly hadn't expected him to say that. She had only been trying to break the silence with idle chatter.