Blood trickled down his forehead and into his eyes.
Zhou Genhuang leaned behind the rusty oil tank and licked his chapped lips. The howling of a mutated hyena could be heard in the distance, mixed with the wind and sand, making people's faces hurt.
"Fuck."
He cursed in a low voice, pulled off his ragged cuffs, and wiped his face carelessly. I haven't drank water for three days, and my lips are split and bloody. To make matters worse, the gunshot wound on his left shoulder began to suppurate, exuding a faint fishy smell in the 40-degree temperature.
