Chapter Fifty-Five: The Soldier's Duty

Before long, sporadic gunfire echoed around them. Zhao Qiang immediately realized that the soldiers were running dangerously low on ammunition. Their QBZ-95 rifles fired only single shots, and even the mysterious sniper was firing just one shot after a long interval—the distinct report of the Type 88 sniper rifle.

Meng Longwei drew his bayonet and was about to fix it to his rifle when Zhao Qiang stopped him, his voice calm: “Let me handle this.” As he spoke, he deftly took the multi-purpose bayonet from Meng Longwei’s hand.

“What are you doing? Fighting is a soldier’s duty! Bullets don’t have eyes—if something happens to you, how will I answer to Miss Zou?” Meng Longwei’s cheeks were still flushed from drink. The moment Zhao Qiang grabbed the bayonet, he immediately realized what Zhao intended and tried to dissuade him.

“Don’t worry. Have your men cease fire and protect the buildings behind us. Leave the zombies to me.” With that, Zhao Qiang shot forward like an arrow loosed from the bow, charging straight into the horde of zombies that had just parachuted in.

Meng Longwei lunged after him but couldn’t even catch the hem of Zhao’s clothes. Fuming, he cursed, “Reckless! You’re just making things worse!” But Zhao was already far ahead. In frustration, Meng Longwei stamped his foot, shouted a few orders to cease fire, and hurried after him.

Hearing their commander’s command, the soldiers stopped shooting. When they saw him follow the fearless newcomer headlong into the zombie crowd, worry for Meng Longwei’s safety compelled the soldiers to charge in as well.

Many zombies had already broken their limbs the moment they hit the ground. Pain meant nothing to them, but broken arms and legs left them far less agile than before. Only a few had landed on top of their comrades and hadn’t suffered much impact. Those few rose unsteadily, just in time to see a crowd of living men charging toward them; they staggered forward to meet them.

Zhao Qiang’s blade rose and fell, and in three forays back and forth through the zombie horde, he slaughtered every last one without resistance. Meng Longwei and his soldiers were left dumbfounded. Was this man even human? Meng Longwei marveled inwardly—this was a killing machine, pure and simple. Thank goodness they were friends; to make an enemy of such a man would be sheer folly.

“Brother, which unit are you from?” Meng Longwei and the others stared at Zhao Qiang, who returned unscathed as if nothing had happened, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Zhao Qiang simply smiled and said nothing, shrouding himself in mystery. Meng Longwei slapped his own forehead and laughed, “No need to ask what shouldn’t be asked. Brother, no matter where you’re from, you’re at home here now. Come, our drinks aren’t finished yet.”

Zhao Qiang laughed heartily, letting Meng Longwei keep his mistaken assumptions, and called to the soldiers, “Brothers, come, let’s drink together!”

A party of forty or fifty people made their way grandly to one of the many grassy spots on Orange Isle, unconcerned about the dirt. They sat down in a great circle. There was still alcohol to be found—several cases of Shaoyang spirits and other liquors from the metro site’s small store had been hauled over by a few resourceful soldiers. After all, the people who might have drunk it had all become zombies; the liquor was better put to use.

Meng Longwei raised his cup and stood. “Comrades, you’ve all worked hard these past days. Thanks to our brother here, we’re able to gather together tonight. No more words—brothers, let’s drink!” He tossed back a large cup of white liquor in one go.

“Cheers!” “Cheers!” For a while, the clinking of glasses rang incessantly across the grass. Yet the faces of the men remained somber. After his toast, Meng Longwei sat down and drank quietly, lost in his thoughts.

Zhao Qiang clinked glasses with several soldiers. Impressed by Zhao’s formidable prowess, they were eager to drink with the hero. Zhao did not refuse anyone, downing several more large cups of strong spirit before feigning a low tolerance for alcohol and slipping down to sit beside Meng Longwei.

Zhao Qiang filled Meng Longwei’s empty cup and asked, “Brother Meng, is something weighing on your mind?”

Meng Longwei took a deep gulp, glanced at Zhao Qiang, and after a hesitant pause finally spoke. “Brother, after tonight’s drinks, you should take your sister and leave as soon as you can.”

Zhao Qiang asked, “Brother Meng, what do you mean by that?”

Meng Longwei sighed. “Since we’re brothers now, I won’t hide it from you. We can’t hold Orange Isle much longer. Two more attacks like this and the men will be out of bullets. If you hadn’t been here tonight, we couldn’t have made it.”

Zhao Qiang said, “Brother Meng, have you thought about leaving?”

Meng Longwei shook his head. “If we could have, we’d have left already. With my men, fighting our way out would be easy enough. But what about the civilians? Even if we take them with us, where would we go? We’re soldiers—honor and duty can’t be cast aside.”

Now these were true soldiers of the people. Knowing that staying meant certain death and possessing the strength to escape, these iron-willed men still abandoned hope of survival for the sake of others. Zhao Qiang was filled with respect. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Brother Meng, what do we lack most right now?”

“Food and ammunition,” Meng Longwei replied without even raising his head, drinking gloomily.

“Both food and bullets can be found, but they’re consumables—we’ll run out again sooner or later. What we need most is to leave here and find a truly secure place.”

Still listless, Meng Longwei asked, “And how do we get food and ammunition?”

“Did you serve on Yuelu Mountain before?” Zhao Qiang asked casually.

Meng Longwei’s eyes lit up. “You mean…”

“That’s right,” Zhao Qiang said with a faint smile. “I’ll go borrow some ammunition from there. Brother Meng, will that be a problem?”

Meng Longwei’s spirits soared. “I’ve long wanted to bring out all the weapons and ammo from there, but we’ve been blocked by the zombies, unable to do anything. Brother, if you’re willing to help, I couldn’t ask for more!” Yet as another thought struck him, his face fell again. He sighed, “But even with ammunition, where could we go? The world is vast, but there’s nowhere to run.”

“No need to worry, Brother Meng. I have a place in mind—it’s just a question of whether you’re willing to go.”

“Oh? Where is it? Tell me.”

“Changsha Prison.”

As Zhao Qiang spoke, he suddenly felt like a pyramid scheme recruiter—every time he met a promising candidate, he’d pull them toward his own territory, and now he was urging people to run straight for a prison. In ordinary times, he’d probably have been slapped for suggesting such a thing.

Meng Longwei’s eyes brightened. A prison was indeed a good idea—far better than Orange Isle, at least there would be no zombies bungee jumping in. But, he hesitated, a prison was full of criminals—surely those people were more terrifying than the zombies outside.

Reading his concern, Zhao Qiang hastened to reassure him, “Don’t worry, Brother Meng. The place is entirely in our hands—absolutely safe. The only thing is, you’ll need to figure out how to get so many civilians there safely.”

“That’s easy!” Meng Longwei slapped his thigh. Though he hadn’t spent much time with Zhao Qiang, he could tell from his drinking manners that the young man was trustworthy. And anyone Zhao Qiang called master was surely a man worth befriending.

As for moving the civilians, Meng Longwei already had a plan. Orange Isle Park had sightseeing vehicles for tourists, the longest of which could haul over a dozen carriages and hold hundreds at a time. The metro construction site was right next door, with plenty of metal sheets and tools. Weld the iron plates over the windows, and you had an armored train. Then, following the under-construction metro line out to the sparsely populated suburbs, the convoy could finally reach the prison—and their mission would be accomplished.