At two o'clock in the afternoon on July 27, the city fell within twenty minutes.
Construction engineer Lu Yuan survived the zombie apocalypse for twenty-one days and died among the zombies.
Then he woke up.
July 26, 6:45 am. The day before the apocalypse.
The memories of twenty-one days are engraved in my mind - the distribution of zombies on each street, the structural weaknesses of each building, the location and time of each companion's death. He didn't know why he came back, let alone whether this was his last chance.
He had less than thirty-two hours.
He contacted a truck in advance, stocked up on 30 barrels of water and 10 boxes of cans, and chose a building for which he had reviewed the construction drawings as a shelter. He knew every load-bearing column and fire escape in that building better than anyone. This time, he no longer passively waited for death.
But the end is never the end of a person.
Will the fate he tried so hard to change wait for him at another intersection? Can those who died in front of him really be saved this time?
And the people he has yet to meet - the surgeon who was trapped on the sixth floor of the hospital for twenty days, the woman who stayed alone on a thirty-meter water tower for ninety-nine days - their stories have just begun.
Fix that window. Fix whatever you can.
