On the morning when the alarm sounded, the sun was still shining on the oily ground of the auto repair shop as usual.
When Liu Mang heard the first scream, he thought one of the workers was joking again. It wasn't until intensive gunshots were heard from the next street, followed by a loud noise as the car lost control and crashed into the wall, that he grabbed the shiny fire ax and kicked open the rolling shutter door.
There was chaos on the streets. Someone bit his family members like crazy. Not long after the person was bitten, he stood up unsteadily, his eyes were cloudy as if covered with a layer of dust, and he let out an inhuman gasp from his throat. Blood flowed down the drain, mixed with broken glass and someone's severed hand.
There is no red mist, and there is no omen. The world was so unexpectedly broken.
Liu Mang's life became simple: looking for food, water, and a place to stay overnight. The ax has smashed the heads of too many zombies, and the non-slip lines on the handle are filled with black dirt that cannot be washed away. He was used to walking alone, and he was used to being wary of wandering monsters, as well as those living people whose eyes looked more and more like monsters.
Until one day, in a supermarket warehouse that had been looted, he found an aunt squatting in the corner, using a rusty kitchen knife to chop off the fingers of the corpse that had crawled in, while protecting a trembling little boy at her feet.
A few days later, on the side of the national highway that was washed away by heavy rain, he saw a girl with a ponytail using a steel bar to pry open the deformed car door. There was a faint cry of a baby in the car.
We still have to go on. Liu Mang didn't know where he would end up next, or who he would meet again. Maybe someone
