Whether in horror movies or in real life, the impression the U.S. military left on Everly was far from good.
So when she saw a military helicopter about to pass over the sightseeing boat, Everly acted without hesitation and turned off the lights at the front of the boat.
The entire sightseeing vessel, along with the surrounding river, plunged into deep darkness. Only Radyard on the right bank stubbornly shone with lights and fire, continuously drawing people’s attention through the night.
The helicopter clearly did not notice the small boat hidden in the river. It roared past above the Chata River and headed toward Radyard. Wherever it flew, the survivors on the ground spread their arms and shouted, hoping for military assistance.
However, the helicopter didn’t stop at all. Once it reached the city, it moved purposefully toward the city center, soon disappearing from the sight of the two people on the boat.
Seeing the helicopter leave, Everly exhaled in relief.
Just monts ago, she had worried that the military might be planning to drop bombs on Radyard from the helicopter. If that were the case, she would have had to turn the engine to full power and escape the river as quickly as possible. But with the diesel visibly low, the boat could not have traveled that far; most likely, it would run out of fuel halfway, drifting helplessly on the water and exploding together with Radyard.
Fortunately, that suffocatingly desperate scenario did not occur. The helicopter continued flying, maintaining an altitude of over a hundred ters above the ground. At that height, dropping bombs would risk engulfing the helicopter itself, so it probably hadn’t received any bombing orders—at least, not yet.
Even though the helicopter had gone, Everly still didn’t dare turn on the boat’s lights.
Because, not far ahead, a second cable-stayed bridge appeared over the river. It was the “Central Bridge” located southeast of the city—the longest of the three major bridges.
As the Chata River flowed through this area, it made a bend due to the terrain. On the outside of the curve, sedint had accumulated, forming a broad rocky shoal along the cliff’s edge. A long section of the Central Bridge was built directly over this rocky expanse.
As the sightseeing boat approached, Everly noticed many temporary army-green tents scattered across the rocky shoal near the bridge’s exit. Bright spotlights illuminated the scene as military vehicles shuttled back and forth, transporting supplies, weapons, and large numbers of U.S. soldiers to the area.
It seed they had established a checkpoint at the bridge’s exit.
On the bridge itself, a large number of civilians and vehicles were trapped by the military barricades, unable to move forward or retreat. At first, people thought the military was screening those trying to escape the city, preventing infected individuals from getting through. However, after waiting anxiously for a long ti, the checkpoint ahead still did not allow anyone to pass.
anwhile, at the far end of the bridge, zombies—drawn by the noise, lights, and presence of living humans—kept gathering and pressing onto the bridge. Those at the rear united to fight them off with all their strength, but wave after wave of zombies ca relentlessly. The people could see no end in sight; soon, they began retreating toward the center of the bridge.
If this continued, ordinary civilians had no chance of survival.
Amid the life-or-death crisis, intense clashes quickly broke out on the bridge.
“They don’t intend to let us leave! We’ll fight them!”
“Charge!”
When the sightseeing boat neared the bridge, Everly heard a chorus of desperate, hoarse shouts from above. Following that ca the furious screams of trapped civilians, along with a hail of gunfire and explosions.
Thanks to the chaos on the bridge, the army’s attention was drawn away from the rocky shoal. Large numbers of soldiers were deployed onto the bridge to guard the checkpoint, so when Everly’s boat passed over the shoal, it went completely unnoticed.
The U.S. military’s weapons were far too advanced; the civilians on the bridge stood no chance against them.
By the ti the sightseeing boat silently passed over the bridge and drifted downstream, gunfire still echoed from above, but the voices of the living had grown much quieter. Only at the far end of the bridge did the zombies’ roars continue without pause, blending with the screams, cries of pain, and calls for help coming from the distant city—an ominous reminder that the long night was far from over…
Everly’s expression grew even grimr.
It was clear: the military was deliberately preventing the citizens of Radyard from leaving. Were they trying to keep the people there to feed the zombies? But why? Everly had seen Grant gan of the gan Group in Radyard before, and she had assud the zombie virus was his doing. Had she been wrong?
There was far too little intelligence for her to figure it out.
She could only hope the military didn’t spot their innocent little boat, so that she and Misha could drift safely downstream.
Having learned from the previous experience of zombies trying to pull their boat apart after crossing the Central Bridge, Everly carefully patrolled around the boat after leaving the bridge, making sure no “dirty things” had approached. Only then did she return to the cabin and continue navigating.
By just after 2 a.m., when exhaustion was overwhelming, a third bridge—the “South Bridge”—appeared on the pitch-black water.
This was the third checkpoint out of Radyard. After passing the South Bridge and drifting a few more kiloters downstream, the Chata River would finally leave Radyard behind and flow into a vast forest.
Like the Central Bridge, the South Bridge was also garrisoned by the military.
It was obvious that intense fighting had occurred here. Aside from the soldiers guarding the checkpoint, no living humans remained on the bridge. Several sections of the bridge deck were engulfed in roaring flas. On the railings, there were copious bloodstains and fragnts of limbs, while a few zombies wandered among the wreckage, scavenging the broken flesh scattered on the ground.
If Everly hadn’t known this was reality, she might have believed she was on a one-day tour of Hell’s hungry ghost realm.
The sightseeing boat had no lights, and it was the darkest hour of the night. Hidden in the shadows of the bridge, the small boat drifted downstream. Just as it was about to pass under the South Bridge, the sound of a helicopter’s rotors suddenly cut through the air.
At the sa ti, a sweeping spotlight traced across the water.
The beam ca from the direction of Radyard, spun briefly over the river’s surface, then angled upward as if by accident—but it nearly swept across the sightseeing boat!
Everly’s breath caught, nearly stopping in panic.
Taking advantage of the helicopter’s presence, which masked the sound of her engine, she acted instantly. She hit the start button and fired up the engine, propelling the boat swiftly away from the danger zone.
While navigating, she kept an eye on the South Bridge through the rearview mirrors on either side of the cabin.
The checkpoint at the edge of the South Bridge was now fully illuminated by the searchlight.
The helicopter that had just passed seed to have returned from a mission in the city center and was preparing to land behind the checkpoint. It was unclear whether it was the sa helicopter she and Misha had spotted earlier.
But the most attention-grabbing sight wasn’t the helicopter itself—it was the massive iron cage hanging beneath it.
Inside the cage were a dozen or so blood-soaked zombies, their faces twisted into hideous snarls. They pressed against the bars, stretching their filthy claws outward, letting out agonized roars, ravenous for flesh. The beam that had swept the river monts ago had been deliberately aid from the helicopter, to confirm the cage’s position and ensure it could land safely without misjudging the height.
The helicopter, carrying the massive iron cage, slowly descended under the watch of soldiers bristling with weapons. A group of people in white protective suits then approached, seemingly intending to restrain the zombies inside the cage with binding straps and take them away for study.
Whether they succeeded, Everly didn’t know. By then, the boat had already moved several hundred ters downstream, propelled by both the current and its engine. Trees along the riverbank obscured the checkpoint, and she couldn’t see anything clearly. Everly withdrew her gaze, pressed the controls, and shut off the sightseeing boat’s engine.
Only 15% of the fuel remained, and the journey was far from over—they had to conserve it.
…
At 2:40 a.m., the sightseeing boat rounded another bend in the winding river, successfully leaving Radyard behind and heading toward an endless stretch of pitch-black forest.
It was only then that Everly dared to turn on the boat’s lights.
Far from the city, the wilderness darkness enveloped the boat like a black net, holding it tightly within its grasp. On either side of the river, high ridges and sheer cliffs lood like towering gravestones—or like countless black giants standing shoulder to shoulder, silently watching the ants aboard the boat. A strong sense of unease and fear of the unknown crept into her mind.
For over half an hour, she continued to drift along the river, steering the boat. Just as Everly propped her chin, drowsy and half-asleep, the distant horizon suddenly flared with light.
She couldn’t describe the scene—it was sowhat like lightning tearing through the night sky, but the burst was far brighter than any lightning, illuminating a much larger area. Even with her back turned, she could feel the surroundings briefly lit up by the brilliance.
After the sudden flare, the light from afar dimd slightly but remained noticeable. Everly opened the window, leaned out halfway, and looked back. Behind the boat, in the direction of Radyard, the sky seed as though hellfire had descended—an entire expanse of red flas consud the heavens.
That was…
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
Before Everly could even react, a series of deafening explosions rolled across the distance, reaching her ears after a noticeable delay. Even the sleeping Misha was awakened by the blasts, rubbing her eyes as she approached the window, silently watching with Everly as a city fell.
If Everly wasn’t mistaken, the military was dropping bombs on Radyard.
Judging by the density of the explosions, they weren’t nuclear or hydrogen bombs—after all, the U.S. governnt wasn’t foolish enough to unleash weapons that would cause severe radioactive contamination on their own soil. But just the fact that the military could drop bombs without hesitation was chilling enough.
And this wasn’t just any target—it was an entire city, ho to at least tens of thousands of survivors. Not only were they not trying to rescue anyone, they were outright bombing them…
Misha was completely unable to sleep after that.
She took over at the helm, leaving Everly with a complicated mix of emotions as she reclined in a cushioned seat inside the cabin.
Perhaps it was exhaustion—her mind was still buzzing with chaotic thoughts—but no sooner had her head touched the soft cushion than Everly plunged into a deep, dark sleep.
She slept for several hours. When her biological clock woke her, Everly opened her eyes to find the sightseeing boat drifting into a wide, open stretch of water.
The river’s current was no longer as violent as it had been near Radyard, but it still flowed swiftly, pushing the boat steadily forward. On both banks, the steep cliffs had disappeared at so point, replaced by endless jungle.
At this point, Everly and Misha could have steered the boat to the shore and switched from navigating the river to traveling on land. But they had studied the maps long ago and knew this wasn’t a good option—the forest on either side was vast, with rugged, complex terrain and many dangerous plants and animals.
Rather than risk crossing the forest, it was safer to continue drifting downstream.
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