The torrential rain had been pouring down for 48 hours straight.
The angry wind howled, the night rain relentless.
This rain was as if heaven had sprung a leak.
North and South were both engulfed in the storm.
Waves surged along the coastline, the sea level rose, subrging so low-elevation islands.
In the Southern hills, the occasional small lakes dotted the landscape.
Southern City, suburbs, Salvation Army headquarters.
Complete chaos, this storm had cost the Salvation Army heavy losses. When the rain first struck, two teams were on their way back from collecting protection fees from other small organizations; they encountered the Zombie Tide en route, losing half their numbers.
They were lucky to have been close to headquarters on their way back; otherwise, the losses would have been greater. In the face of an onslaught like the Zombie Tide, one must find a secure and stable place. Any random stopover would not last long.
In the deepest part of a factory building, there was a vast eting room of about 70 square ters, on whose leather sofa sat a middle-aged man with not a hair out of place and an extra finger on his right hand—six fingers in total.
The man stood on the third floor, looking out the window at the drizzling rain.
The room was lit, and he held a cigarette in his hand, taking a drag from ti to ti, his face stern.
"Boss, Director Gao and Leader Qian still haven't returned. Now, it looks like they're not coming back," said a young man with glasses beside the middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man remained silent, ignoring the young man, instead rose from the sofa and walked towards the window, opening it slightly, letting so rainwater drift inside.
This silent tension left the young man extrely anxious. He knew the boss was prone to anger, unpredictable, and could explode at any mont. Now, with Leader Qian and the others missing, even though other groups made it back, they lost too many n.
Originally, the Salvation Army headquarters had over 900 people. Brother Mao and others went to Xin City to collect fees, taking over 50 people with them but never returned. Director Gao and Leader Qian then led over 180 people there, and after two days, they're still not back. And now, the returning groups have lost half their mbers—that's another 100 people.
Now, there are only about 500 people left at the headquarters. Nearly a halving of their workforce, and what's worse, these people were supposed to bring back this month's supplies, which haven't arrived yet.
With the current headcount, it's uncertain how long their supplies can last.
The young man bent slightly, head bowed, not daring to et the boss's eyes, thoughts running through his mind.
Suddenly, the middle-aged man at the window spoke, "How's the situation at the main gate now, is it still stable?"
Even though the young man's mind was racing, he kept an eye on the middle-aged man's movents. Hearing the boss inquire, he quickly replied, "Stable. Leader Zhang and his team are taking shifts, holding off the zombies. So far, only one or two unlucky ones got bitten; the rest are stable. It's just..."
He hesitated as if rembering sothing.
"Speak up!"
"It's just that Leader Zhang's team is also asking about the distribution of supplies. According to the schedule, we should be handing out so supplies today," said the young man, his voice filled with trepidation.
After all, with Leader Qian and others not returning from Xin City and the depletion of supplies by the returning teams, if they were to distribute now, the amount would be significantly reduced. With such a severe cutback, he wondered if Leader Zhang's team might make trouble.
"What's there to be conflicted about? Distribute, give them a third. Just tell them we need to conserve supplies because of the Zombie Tide. They know the other groups didn't make it back," the middle-aged man said.
Then, as if an afterthought, he added, "If they have complaints, let them co to !"
The young man inwardly sneered, thinking who would dare to confront you? They wouldn't dare to trouble you; that would be inviting a problem. They'd only trouble , leaving to carry the can. Sigh, my life is hard.
Though he thought this way, he obediently responded, "Okay, boss. I'll go arrange it now."
The middle-aged man, without turning around, waved his hand, signaling him to leave.
The young man left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Only when outside did he exhale the breath he had been holding, his back soaked with sweat. Although the boss hadn't lost his temper just now, the imnse pressure he exerted was overwhelming.
The previous assistant got into trouble for inadvertently angering the boss and ended up being thrown out to feed the zombies.
Every report to the boss was like walking on a tightrope, feeling as though accompanying a tiger. It truly unsettled him.
He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it and to quickly get to work.
Yet, a trace of worry lingered between his brows, refusing to disperse.
...
Xin City still had so Survivors, though in small numbers, now caught between life and death.
The deluge had been raging for 48 hours; many of the lower areas were already flooded, and a lot of people had begun moving to higher ground.
However, one had to be very careful of zombies during relocation.
Amidst the pouring rain, zombies' sense of sll and overall strength were greatly enhanced. Once discovered by a horde, one could simply await death.
So risked moving to higher grounds, while others, fearing detection by zombies, chose to stay put, not daring to move. Yet as the water level rose, their anxiety deepened.
These people faced several major issues:
1. The imdiate threat of zombies. In the darkness of the storm, zombies seed to be everywhere, and avoiding detection was crucial.
2. The continuous downpour hindered many from venturing out to collect supplies, and it was unclear when the rain would stop. They rationed food, careful not to overeat in case supplies ran out before the rain ceased. Yet even with reduced daily rations, the dwindling supplies increased their anxiety.
3. The dual drain on physical and ntal energy. The keen-sensed zombies could easily track down people in the rain, forcing the Survivors to be constantly vigilant.
So clever individuals applied mud and other substances to mask their scent, which was exceedingly uncomfortable.
Every downpour was a test for humanity.
And a celebration... for the zombies.
...
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