I sell Coke in the doomsday

"get off."

Under the gunpoint, the fat guy had no choice but to get out of the car obediently. But what he didn't expect was that I got out of the car with him.

I held the pistol tightly and fired at both his legs. After two shots, the fat man's face turned pale, his knees softened, and he fell to the ground.

"Boss! Boss! Don't kill me. What did I do to make you unhappy?"

I ignored the fat man's pleas for mercy and moved the muzzle of the gun, aiming at his head, but when the firing pin struck, no bullet was fired.

"Oh shit!"

I couldn't suppress my anger any longer, so I picked up the butt of the gun and smashed it hard on the fat guy's head. Then, like a madman, I rode on him and punched him in the face again and again.

"Fuck you, you bastards!"

"She's a human being too!"

"Have you forgotten that she is a human? Aa ...

The feeling of anger occupied my entire mind at this moment. I waved my fists like crazy. Even though the fat man under me was breathing weakly and couldn't even scream, I still punched him again and again.

Even though no one could answer me, I still roared hysterically like a wounded beast.

"why why!"

"Why do you have to remind me what kind of world this is!"

"I've tried so damn hard to numb myself, and you guys just want to drive me crazy, right!!!"

"You are a bunch of limp beasts! Rotten meat! Dog bastards!"

As I was furious, I felt even sadder. Am I the only one in the world who still misses that civilized society? Am I the only one who is reluctant to leave?

What am I then? An antique left over from the old times? Or a waste that can't keep up with the times?

I don’t know how long it took, but the fat man’s head and my hands had become a bloody mess. I seemed to have lost all my strength. I sat dejectedly on the fat man’s body and looked up at the sky.

"It's a fucking nightmare."

I don't know when, the previous tide of zombies has come again. The zombies tightly surrounded the bodies of me and the fat man, but strangely they did not pounce on us immediately and tear the fat man into pieces. Instead, they just stood there and looked at the fat man and me on the ground.

I stood up, feeling more tired than ever before. I turned around and squeezed into the crowd of zombies. Under their gaze, I got back into the pickup truck and drove away.

Through the rearview mirror, I saw the zombies finally rush over, tear the fat man's flesh and blood into pieces, and swallow it into their stomachs, but I walked further and further away, not wanting to take another look.

Chapter 7 Rice

I... shouldn't have expected that.

In this crazy era, sobriety may be the most painful and incurable disease.

If I can't see or hear those dirty things, I won't have to think about them. I can stay in my little nest with peace of mind, numb myself, like a drug addict, missing the prosperous yet contradictory civilized world of the past.

But if I heard those sad stories, I would feel like there was a knife slowly picking at my bones, peeling off my flesh and blood, and driving me crazy.

Unfortunately, I am neither dead nor crazy.

After driving the pickup truck a long distance away, I stopped the car and pounded on the steering wheel like crazy.

After a long time, I sat powerlessly in the car. Some zombies surrounded me curiously, but after seeing me in the car, they walked away disappointedly.

A pile of white bird droppings fell on the car window. The white and sticky solid slid down the window, leaving a white mark.

A rainstorm was coming, so the birds were flying very low. I looked at the birds, silently sat up, and restarted the pickup truck. The bird poop fell right into a place that the wipers couldn't reach, as if it was mocking me and couldn't be wiped off.

I turned the car around and headed back towards the previous location.

Since the stronghold has been destroyed, the supplies stored in the stronghold, that is, ownerless items, should not be wasted, and it can also save my Coke.

I returned along the same route, and when I passed the place where I had abandoned the fat man, the tide of corpses had dispersed, leaving only a pool of blood and a pale skeleton.

A few black and white magpies landed on the bones and pecked at the remaining flesh and blood.

It is ironic that people back then loved magpies very much, and the older generation even believed that a magpie visiting their home was a very auspicious thing.

However, magpies are omnivores. They like to eat meat. Even when they are vegetarians, they will eat some crops. From the beginning to the end, humans' love for them was wrong.

Not to mention that in this era, these magpies on the plains like to follow people from a distance, waiting for the zombies to tear those people to pieces, and they can eat fresh human flesh on these white skeletons.

I honked the car horn, but found that the magpies were already accustomed to the sound and had no intention of running away.

Perhaps even these birds understand that the era belonging to humans is over.

I stopped trying and drove the pickup truck towards the stronghold in my memory.

Before the rain came, I successfully arrived at the stronghold. Perhaps some unlucky zombie set fire to the gunpowder depot in the stronghold. When I arrived, I saw a column of black smoke from afar.

The gate of the stronghold, which was simply made of wood, was burning fiercely in the fire. I was worried that the flames would burn my pickup truck, so I parked the car ten meters away from the gate, put on my shotgun, and got out of the car alone.

The left-handed pistol I picked up was thrown next to the fat man's body in anger by me. Now this shotgun is my only weapon.

I stepped over the flames at the gate of the stronghold and walked straight inside. The white bones on the ground and the gathered magpies occupied my sight.

This time, I raised my shotgun and vented my anger at the magpies. I fired five shots in a row, and when I ran out of bullets, the magpies scattered but refused to go away.

The magpies, who were longing for human flesh, perched on the tall branches, waiting patiently.

I didn't shoot again. I just loaded bullets into the shotgun and walked forward. The gunshots attracted many zombies that were still wandering in the stronghold.

I walked straight forward, pushing aside the zombies without giving in, entered a random room, and started searching for supplies.

It was a simple wooden house, extremely shabby. In order to keep warm in the winter, the windows were made very small, the light in the whole house was very poor, and there was no lighting in the house.

I guess the owner of this house can only sleep soundly after sunset every day and has no nightlife at all.

I searched the house for a long time and finally found a CD under the bed. It was very strange. Why would the owner of the house, who had no playback equipment and even no electricity, treasure a CD?

I turned the CD over to the other side and saw handwriting on it with a marker.

Video of my daughter Tongtong’s 18th birthday.

Suddenly, my heart seemed to ache. This disc was hidden so secretly. It was obviously his most precious thing. In this ruined civilization, he seemed to have a glimmer of fantasy in his heart just like me.

I long for the day when I can sit alone on the sofa in a restored human civilization world, play this disc, look at my daughter on the TV screen, and then burst into tears.

I carefully put away the CD and walked out of the house slowly, but my mind was full of random thoughts.

Before the end of the world came, the recording function of mobile phones had become better and better, but the homeowner chose professional equipment to record his daughter's birthday and made it into a disc.

He or she really loves his or her daughter.

And in this bandit-like human stronghold, there are also innocent people living here.

Because of some special experiences in this doomsday decade, I hate all religions, but at this moment, I remembered a widely circulated religious story.

Legend has it that God sent several angels to destroy a city. The angels then went to the home of a good person in the city and told him the news that the city was about to be destroyed.

The good man asked the angel, there were hundreds of good people like him in the city, so should the city be destroyed even so?

The angels replied that since there were so many good people in the city, they would spare the city.

When saying goodbye, the good man told the angel that there were not so many good people in this city and that he had deceived him.

But the angel told the good man that even if he was the only good man in the city, they would spare the city for the sake of this one good man.

This is a simple story, a story that was told by those religions back then to encourage people to be good. Similar stories can be found in many religions, but the reality is completely the opposite of those stories.

Evil people bring disaster, and then innocent people are implicated and die miserably. This is reality.

After trying several houses in a row without success, I decided to skip the small houses and go straight to the largest one.

Because it was far away from the gunpowder depot, the fire did not spread to the house. After I pushed the door open, I was surprised to find that it was a warehouse.

There were a lot of miscellaneous things piled up in the warehouse, the most of which were canned food that these people had looted from the city. I had a lot of these expired cans, so I just skipped them.

What really surprised me was that there was half a bag of rice in the warehouse.

Chapter 8 The Walking Dead

When was the last time I ate rice? I can’t remember for sure, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

Like a fool, I threw myself on the bag of rice, buried my face in it, and greedily smelled the scent of the rice. I swear, this was the best smell I had smelled in these years.

In the ten years after the apocalypse, the value of rice was even more outrageous than that of gold.

And the facts have also proved that compared to things like rice, things like gold and diamonds are worthless.

Some human settlements have successfully grown crops, but rice is much more demanding than other crops.

Tilling the soil, transplanting rice, and applying fertilizers not only require the land to be level, but also require water irrigation, even for dry rice.

I don't know how the people in this stronghold got the rice, but I think it was through robbery. And seeing that there is only half a bag, I guess only the leader of the stronghold can enjoy such a luxury.

After finding the rice, I searched the warehouse for a long time and finally found a big iron hammer in a corner. The black hammer was stained with some blood that had already turned black.

It seems that these idiots used the hammer as a tool of execution.

I contentedly carried the half bag of rice on my back, still dragging the hammer in my hand, kicked open the closed door of the warehouse, and walked towards the exit of the stronghold.

However, when I was halfway there, a drop of rain fell on the tip of my nose.

The rain clouds that had been gathering since morning finally began to pour rain onto the ground. The rain quickly became heavier and turned into a downpour.

I dropped the hammer in a panic, carried the half bag of rice, went into a house, and began to worry whether the taste of the rice would be affected if it was soaked in rain water.

The room with extremely poor lighting became even darker because of the dark rain clouds. I couldn't see what was inside, so I just rushed in.

When I entered the house, I found that the zombies, who did not like rain, had taken the lead and filled the house, leaving only a broken table for me.

In the darkness, the zombies and I stared at each other and waited for a long time, but no zombie was sensible enough to make room for me to sit.

There was no other way, so I could only force the zombies aside, press my body against theirs, and sit on the tattered wooden bed.

The wooden bed was very old and worn out, and when I squeezed in to sit on it, it immediately made a teeth-grinding sound.

Perhaps, when making this wooden bed, no one considered whether this bed could withstand the weight of five zombies and an adult man.

A human being and a group of zombies squeezed together on a bed was obviously a very special sight, but I had long been accustomed to this kind of thing, so I didn't feel any discomfort.

There seemed to be something under the worn blanket of the wooden bed, which made my butt feel uncomfortable. I lifted the blanket and found a Chinese book.

I took the Chinese textbook from the book and took a quick look. I found that it was an elementary school Chinese textbook. The pages had turned yellow and there were a few small fingerprints on them. Judging from the size, it should have belonged to a child.

For a moment, I was full of curiosity about the owner of this house. Was he a teacher? That's why he kept the Chinese textbook that he used to hold in his hands every day until now.

So, where did those tiny fingerprints on the book come from?

I stood up, pushed through the group of zombies, and looked at the table at the door. With the faint light of the lighter, I finally saw what was on the table clearly.

I saw that on the rough and uneven table top, someone had used burnt wood ash to write a lot of crooked words on the table. The handwriting was childish and sloppy, and it was obvious that it was left by a child learning to write.

My breath stopped and I stared at the childish handwriting on the table, speechless for a long time.

Yes, how could I be the only one who misses the old times?

We are all still human beings, all living human beings. We have had civilization and order.

But under the crushing pressure of this doomsday that covers the sky and the earth, perhaps all we can do is go crazy, become primitive and barbaric.

Life becomes increasingly difficult, and there is no hope for the future. Under the pressure of terror, people will naturally become violent, cruel, and hysterical.

So, we all chose to numb ourselves. I played house with the zombies and closed my heart, while they used the most primitive violence to vent the loneliness and despair in their hearts.

However, perhaps they have all forgotten that the use of violence is addictive, and just like drugs in the past, it seeps into the bone marrow and is difficult to quit.

I picked up a stick from the ground, lit it, and stuck it on the roughly made table. With the help of the firelight, I opened the Chinese textbook and read it carefully.

When I turned to one of the texts, my not-so-clear brain started to act up again.

"Cough, cough."

I cleared my throat deliberately so that the zombies in the room who were sensitive to sound would turn their eyes to me. Then I smiled at them in a pretentious manner and prepared to start reading the text in the book.

As I said before, I don't know what I was thinking, I just did it on a whim.

I leaned the Chinese textbook against the burning branch, recalling my vague elementary school memories in a calm voice.

"Looking forward to it, looking forward to it."

"The east wind is coming, and spring is approaching."

"Everything looks as if it has just woken up and opened its eyes happily. The mountains are bright and moist, the water is rising, and the sun is blushing."

"..."