The smelly wind swept the broken pieces of paper across the broken walls of the supermarket ruins. Yuntian huddled behind the remains of the shelves, his throat so dry that it felt like it was on fire. He raised his hand to wipe the ashes from his face, and his fingertips touched a scabbed wound, which made him hiss in pain.
"Damn, when will this bad life end?" He cursed in a low voice, his voice hoarse. It was already the third day since the end of the world. The last bit of drinking water had been spilled by the zombie tide the night before. Now all he had left was half a tooth-hard compressed biscuit, which he had taken out from the arms of a zombie. Thinking about that scene, he couldn't help but feel nauseated.
The low roars of zombies could be heard outside the supermarket, accompanied by the friction of heavy objects being dragged, making people's scalp numb. Yuntian held his breath, pressed his body lower, and looked out through the gaps in the shelves. Three zombies in tattered overalls were wandering aimlessly. One of them had his arm twisted at a weird angle, obviously it had been broken by something before.
