My Cherry Will Explode in the Apocalypse – CH45

Chapter 45: Assembly and Departure

In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.

Three days—neither particularly long nor especially short. The soldiers went out almost every night, driving to collect as many supplies as possible. After all, with more than eight hundred of them, daily consumption was considerable. Every time they went out, they would bring some supplies back for Su Ruizhe’s group as well. Despite repeated refusals, the soldiers insisted on doing things their own way; if the group truly wouldn’t accept them, the soldiers would simply leave the supplies at the door, leaving everyone both amused and helpless. It was also said that several more soldiers, like Zhao Bing, had awakened abilities—apparently after being injured by zombies while out gathering supplies.

On the night of the third day, a woman’s clear, pleasant voice came through the radio, broadcasting the latest news: the rescue mission in N City had been successfully completed, and the rescue troops were about to arrive in S City. The troops would remain in S City for three days. Survivors who were able to travel on their own were instructed to go to the southwest entrance of National Highway 781, where a service area had been temporarily designated as the rescue force’s staging ground. Those without the ability to save themselves were asked to hang a conspicuous piece of red cloth outside their windows; rescue troops would enter the city to conduct search-and-rescue operations.

Even though S City was only a prefecture-level city, it still had a population of at least eight million. Even if only half of them had mutated, it was far beyond what the rescue troops could handle. Entering the city and going door to door to search for survivors was simply unrealistic and there wasn’t enough time. The government’s approach was therefore the most effective: those with the ability would make their way to join the main force, while those without would wait for rescue. As long as they followed instructions and hung a visible red cloth, the troops would find a way to save them.

As soon as the news spread, the villa area became lively. Almost everyone began packing their belongings. Zhao Bing also came by to ask whether they would be heading to National Highway 781 together the next day.

The answer, of course, was yes.

With Su Ruizhe around, Zhan Yun’s group didn’t really have much to pack. Still, to avoid arousing suspicion, each of them carried a large hiking backpack filled with food, water, and the like. The journey to the survivor base would be long, and it would likely take quite some time on the road.

They were still driving the same off-road vehicle as before—the one Zhao Bing had arranged to have driven back for them from that small village. Although the exterior had a few scratches, its performance was still excellent.

During the day, everyone rested in the house. Su Ruizhe made relatively hearty meals for both meals, since once they set out with the main force, they likely wouldn’t have many chances to eat hot, freshly cooked food again.

After night fell, they drove their off-road vehicle out of the villa area together with Zhao Bing’s military trucks.

Before long, they began to see many other vehicles, all heading southwest. Clearly, these were survivors who had also received the news and were going to National Highway 781 to rendezvous with the main force. When these people saw Zhao Bing’s military trucks, they assumed they were a rescue unit sent by the army and followed behind them. In no time at all, the vehicles formed a long, snaking convoy.

However, this also attracted more and more zombies. Those that could be run over were run over; when there were too many, the soldiers used firearms to shoot them. On certain stretches of road, other vehicles tried to cut in line and collided with others, causing severe congestion. Many people in those vehicles were completely surrounded by zombies, with screams and crashing sounds filling the air.

But what could Zhao Bing and the others do? Stop and rescue them? That was obviously unrealistic. The road was only so wide, with illegally parked vehicles on both sides. Zhao Bing’s trucks were at the front; if they stopped, all the vehicles behind them would be forced to stop as well. Wouldn’t that just trap people who might otherwise escape right in the middle of the zombie horde?

As they passed some residential buildings, they saw residents leaning out of windows, shouting down at them and waving all kinds of red clothing and fabric, hoping they would come up and rescue them—but they still couldn’t stop.

All Zhao Bing could do was have a few soldiers lean out and shout to the crowd, telling everyone to wait patiently for the follow-up rescue forces.

The farther they went on the road out of the city, the worse the congestion became. When the apocalypse had first begun, many people had tried to flee the city, but the outcome was clearly not always a happy one. They detoured along several routes; when there was no way around, they sent people out of the vehicles to clear the way in an emergency. Zheng Jiahe helped out several times as well—having a powerhouse like him around made it much easier to move cars that were blocking the road.

In this way, after nearly two or three hours, around two or three in the morning, the convoy finally reached the southwest entrance of National Highway 871. At a glance, they could see the brightly lit service area in the darkness. Dozens of military trucks were parked in the lot there, with several thousand fully armed soldiers standing guard around it.

When they saw that the lead vehicles of the convoy were actually more than a dozen military trucks, they showed looks of surprise. Once Zhao Bing’s vehicles drove closer, they immediately stepped forward to question them. Upon learning that Zhao Bing and his men were the garrison troops from S City, and that the vehicles behind them were all survivors, the rescue force allowed them to drive straight in.

Because the parking area in front of the service station was limited, only military trucks were allowed to park there. Other survivors’ private vehicles were arranged to park directly on the highway behind. Thanks to Zhao Bing, Zhan Yun’s group was given special permission to park their off-road vehicle inside the lot as well. After all, they only had one vehicle—it was hardly a big deal.

The buildings in the service area were divided into two sections. The section on the left was used as the operations headquarters, while the remaining areas were all set aside specifically for survivors.

However, before entering the service area, everyone had to undergo a medical check. Anyone with injuries was isolated and placed in separate rooms to prevent mutation. Quite a few of Zhao Bing’s soldiers were wounded, but since none of the injuries were recent and the wounds had already begun to heal, they were still classified as safe.

All survivors who passed the medical screening were guided into the service hall. Everything unnecessary had already been cleared out, leaving a completely empty space. Clean carpets had been laid on the floor so people could sit and rest. Through a door at the back were the restrooms, making it convenient for everyone to take care of personal needs.

Outside, people had already started boiling water and cooking porridge. Many survivors hadn’t had hot water or a hot meal in days. Before long, everyone would be able to line up to receive a cup of water and a bowl of porridge.

The entire service area was brightly lit, and the air conditioning was running. Two diesel generators were in operation. They needed to stay here for three days to continuously receive survivors, so generators were essential. The service area had its own gas station, and diesel fuel was plentiful.

It could be said that the survivors were being treated extremely well.

Zhan Yun and his group also entered the survivor rest area, found a spot against the wall, and closed their eyes to rest.

Soon, the porridge was ready, and soldiers came in to notify everyone to go outside and collect food and water.

Everyone rushed out eagerly. Only Zhan Yun’s group remained calm, sitting there with their eyes closed. They had just eaten a full meal before coming and weren’t very hungry, so they didn’t bother competing with the others. They could go later once everyone else had been served—or even skip it altogether if there was none left.

About a quarter of an hour later, someone noticed they were still in the rest area and assumed they hadn’t heard the earlier announcement, so they reminded them again. Only then did the group get up and head outside.

Eight large pots were set up outside, and the aroma of porridge hit them immediately. People were divided into eight lines, and the distribution moved fairly quickly.

Zheng Jiahe glanced at the bowls in the hands of survivors who had already received their porridge. It didn’t look too thin—there were some yellowish vegetable leaves and finely minced bits of meat, and it had been colored with soy sauce. In the days before the apocalypse, porridge with this kind of appearance probably wouldn’t have attracted many customers, but now it was an exceptionally delicious meal.

After finishing their porridge and water, everyone returned their bowls to the soldiers and went back into the hall to rest.

Throughout the night, survivors continued to arrive in a steady stream, and the number of people in the hall kept increasing.

After daybreak, as the temperature rose, no new vehicles appeared, and the soldiers who had been standing guard outside all returned to the service area.

In the isolation room, three people mutated and were shot dead by the soldiers.

By the evening of the third day, more than a dozen military trucks drove out from S City. This was the team that had been sent into the city to carry out rescue operations, and they brought back over a thousand survivors—people who had hung red cloths at home to signal for help. These survivors were in much worse condition than those who had driven out on their own. When it came time to receive porridge, they wolfed it down, looking as though they wished they could swallow the bowls as well.

“Please be prepared. We’ll wait here until one o’clock in the morning, and then we’ll set off,” a soldier came to inform the survivors.

Because daytime temperatures were too high for travel, they had to depart at one in the morning, get onto the G5 Expressway, and head toward A City, so they could reach the next service area before dawn.

Everyone immediately began packing up, returning to their vehicles and staying ready to depart at any moment.

The soldiers also started making preparations for evacuation. Important equipment like the generators was loaded onto the military trucks. Survivors without vehicles would continue riding in the trucks. In addition, each private vehicle was issued a 50-liter barrel of gasoline to help sustain them on the journey ahead.

At one in the morning, dozens of military trucks, followed by hundreds—if not thousands—of smaller vehicles, set off in a mighty procession.

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