Chapter 145: Midnight Visitor

One shake, two shakes, three shakes, four, five, six, seven, eight…

At midnight twelve, Zhang Su got up from bed after grabbing two hours of sleep, it was time for him to take over Zheng Xinyu's watch.

He put on his clothes and stepped out of the RV; the air outside was chilly, hovering around seven to eight degrees—cold enough to sting but not enough to freeze.

Zhang Su rubbed his hands, climbed quietly onto the RV, lit a cigarette, and whispered, "Xinyu, go rest."

Zheng Xinyu suddenly reached out and pinched the inside of Zhang Su's thigh.

"Ow…" Zhang Su thought she was up to something, but he hadn't expected her to grab his soft flesh—he winced and lowered his voice: "Are you crazy? Why pinch me?!"

As he rubbed his inner thigh, it felt worse than being slashed by a knife…

Zheng Xinyu pressed her gaze close to Zhang Su's face, shoved her pistol and walkie-talkie into his arms, and growled: "Last time with me, you only lasted twenty-two minutes. Today, the RV shook for twenty-eight. Hmph!"

Zhang Su froze. By the time he snapped back to reality, Zheng Xinyu had already descended the stairs slowly. He ran to the side and flipped her the middle finger: "You're a freak—still keeping track of time? Fuck!"

"Hmph."

Zheng Xinyu gave another dainty huff, leaving Zhang Su stunned in the wind, then went back to the RV to sleep.

Zhang Su rubbed his slightly long hair, sighed helplessly, and sat on the folding chair. He turned on the walkie-talkie: "Xiao Pang, Xiao Pang, wake up and pee!"

Soon, the walkie-talkie crackled back: "Uncle, I'm not asleep. I saw lights from Pangezhuang—flashed a flashlight two hours ago. Owa."

Pang Dakun was wide awake, scanning the rooftops while chatting with his corgi, Lucky. The mood was relaxed, almost carefree.

"Probably just someone going back to the village for supplies. Not unusual. Keep watching. Don't slack off."

"Roger, Owa!"

"You keep saying 'Owa'—what's with the 'Owa'?"

Zhang Su found Pang Dakun's plastic English annoying—he could just speak normally, why mimic an Indian accent?

"I saw it in movies—spies always say 'Owa' after using the radio. Owa."

"Fine, Owa-Owa, no need to reply!"

Zhang Su shook his head, picked up the binoculars, stared into the distance, and began planning ahead.

Zheng Xinyu's watch was from nine PM to midnight; Zhang Su's was midnight to three AM; the final shift naturally fell to Zhong Xiaoshanjian, who would stay until dawn.

Soon, it was three AM. Zhong Xiaoshanjian stepped out of the RV and found Zhang Su stabbing zombies at the gate.

"Some zombie from a nearby village wandered over here."

Zhang Su gently lowered the zombie he'd just killed with his dagger, then turned to Zhong Xiaoshanjian.

"You're tired. Go back to the RV and warm up—you can still sleep a few hours."

Zhong Xiaoshanjian wrapped the tablecloth shawl tighter around herself, then kissed Zhang Su on the cheek.

But as Zhang Su turned to walk toward the RV, he suddenly froze, his ears twitching.

"What's wrong?"

Zhong Xiaoshanjian whispered softly.

"Shh!"

Zhang Su signaled for silence. At that moment, his walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Brother Su, three people approaching from the city, three people approaching from the city, Owa!"

Zhang Su and Zhong Xiaoshanjian quickly retreated from the factory gate, hiding behind the wall. Soon, hurried footsteps grew louder, then came the ragged breathing of approaching figures.

Under the dim glow of the walkie-talkie's light, Zhang Su and Zhong Xiaoshanjian exchanged glances—both read the same thought: those three were heading straight for the factory!

As expected, moments later, two beams of light pierced through the gate barrier and lit up the yard. Outside, voices rose.

"Uncle Jia, you weren't mistaken—there are people here!"

"This barricade is new—the branches were definitely cut yesterday!"

"I told you I saw a flicker on the roof! Thank God—we're saved at last!"

From their voices, Zhang Su identified three men. He gripped his USP tightly—three armed men could easily crush their makeshift camp.

Just as Zhang Su tensed, the outsiders raised their voices.

"Hello, Master inside! We're survivors who escaped the city. Can you spare us some help?"

An aged voice echoed through the factory yard.

Zhang Su motioned to Zhong Xiaoshanjian to stay put, then stepped out of the darkness, switched on his flashlight, and aimed the gun's beam at the gate: "Raise your hands. Keep them where I can see them. Don't move!"

The bright light blinded them, but they clearly saw the black barrel of the pistol.

"Don't shoot! We're not bad people! We didn't come to cause trouble! Brother, we're all good people! Here—take our weapons! Quick, Xiao Qi, Xiao Lü, hand them over!"

Clatter-clatter—two homemade spears and a crowbar were tossed inside the barricade. Unless they removed the barrier, the men couldn't retrieve their weapons—clearly sincere.

"Xiao Pang, you got caught smoking. No more smoking during watch!"

Zhang Su scolded Pang Dakun over the walkie-talkie. The men had been clear—the rooftop flash was definitely Pang Dakun's cigarette.

"Got it, Uncle… Owa."

Pang Dakun replied quickly.

Zhang Su turned to the three men outside: "Step back. Turn around—let me see you."

They'd thrown out their weapons, but they likely still had hidden gear.

The three obeyed, stepping back and slowly turning twice. The man called Uncle Jia spoke: "Brother, we're just ordinary survivors."

Zhang Su studied them closely, found no obvious threat, then asked: "Where are you from?"

"Brother, we escaped from Qincheng. Yesterday, our settlement was overrun by zombies. We barely got out—we've got almost no food or water. Can you help? We'll trade tools and medicine!"

The middle-aged man, Jia Shiqin, spoke earnestly.

Their voices carried clearly through the silent night. Slowly, people emerged from the RVs and factory buildings. Zhong Xiaoshanjian informed them of the situation.

"Xiao Pang, check if anyone's lurking nearby!"

Zhang Su ordered Pang Dakun to scout.

The middle-aged man understood Zhang Su's concern and quickly clarified: "Brother, only the three of us. We've been running alone—no one else. We mean no harm."

"Uncle, no one visible in any direction, Owa!"

Pang Dakun reported.

"I'll ask, you answer. What did you do before the disaster?"

Zhang Su sensed the three were polite and restrained—he didn't just chase them off or offer immediate trade. He wanted to probe their background first.

The three outside paused, then the middle-aged man said: "I was an electrician."

A younger voice added: "I was a hairstylist at a barbershop."

The last one said: "I was a delivery guy…"

Zhang Su nodded, then asked: "Second question: Have you killed any zombies?"

"Yes…"

The electrician and the delivery guy answered in unison.

The hairstylist stammered weakly: "What if I didn't kill it?"

Zhang Su ignored the hairstylist and asked: "Last question: Have you killed a person?"

"No, no…"

This time, the hairstylist and the delivery guy answered together, waving their hands frantically.

The electrician, Jia Shiqin, lowered his head slightly, then said: "What about someone who was infected but hadn't turned yet?"

Zhang Su focused his flashlight on the electrician's face, unafraid of blinding him, studying his expression. But before he could read anything, a startled voice rang out behind him.

"Master Jia?"

Tan Huajun stepped out from the crowd, wrapped in a coat, and rushed to Zhang Su's side, her voice trembling: "Brother Su, he—he's Uncle Jia, the man my daughter wrote about!"

"Uncle Jia…"

Zhang Su murmured, memories flooding back—Tan Huajun's Phoenix International complex had once housed a man named Jia who had formed a self-rescue group; Tan Huajun's daughter and father had left the compound with that group.

Outside the gate, the man Tan Huajun called Master Jia looked confused, shielding his eyes from the flashlight: "Who are you?"

Zhang Su dimmed the flashlight beam and shifted it toward Tan Huajun.

"Me? Xiao Tan—the gas station attendant! Last summer, my electric scooter wouldn't charge—you fixed it for me!" Tan Huajun blurted out, then, without waiting for a reply, pressed urgently: "Master Jia, where are the others from your rescue team?"

At this question, the three men outside slumped.

Zhang Su's heart sank. He turned to those behind him: "Come on, move the barrier."

Zhao Xue and Zhang Ya hurried forward to dismantle a section of the wire fence. Lu Yubo, Zhao Dezhu, and several other men, weapons in hand, welcomed the three outsiders inside—though Tan Huajun knew their leader, caution still lingered.

Tan Huajun rushed to Jia Shiqin, shaking his shoulders: "Master Jia, don't scare me—where are Xiao Lan and my father?!"

Thwack!

No one expected Jia Shiqin to suddenly slap himself hard.

"It's my fault—all because I was careless, I didn't think it through. I've doomed everyone…"

Hearing this, Tan Huajun's knees buckled. Her belief shattered instantly. Zhang Su caught her in time: "Come on, come inside—let's talk!"

(End of Chapter)