Strangers Becoming Allies

13

After dinner, I prepared fresh bedding for Chris and moved Anne's bed back into the living room.

I locked the doors to the master bedroom and the storage room.

"What exactly happened today? What did you talk about outside?" I finally couldn't hold back my questions.

"It's a long story," Anne thought for a moment. "Chris has been outside the complex; he seems to know a lot about the zombies." 

"According to him, they return to the buildings at night." 

"So... the zombies in the complex will come back to the residential buildings?" This matched Anne's earlier theory. 

"Yes," she nodded, "But they won't go upstairs. They'll just stay in the lobby." 

"Why?" 

"He said conserving energy is likely a fundamental part of zombie behavior. From that perspective, they should avoid unnecessary exertion," Anne explained. "You see, they hardly move unless they detect a survivor." 

"Of course, this doesn't mean the hallways are safe. Some people never left in the first place," she added. 

"Are they afraid of water?" I recalled the scene from the afternoon.

In the rain, the zombies scattered throughout the complex had retreated into the buildings before sunset. 

"I don't know," she shook her head lightly.

"But seriously, why did you agree to let Chris stay with us?" This was my main concern. 

"Chris... doesn't seem like a dangerous person." 

"And he has the advantage of knowing more than we do," Anne frowned.

"If he wanted to harm us, there are plenty of ways." 

"It's a gamble. By doing him a big favor today, I hope to get some information out of him tomorrow," she sighed. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have let him in." 

"Whether it's Chris or the zombies, as long as we stay inside, we should be safe enough," I couldn't understand. "Why take such a big risk?" 

"Yeah, why?" Anne softly repeated my question. "Helen, you need to think about that." 

The next morning, they were already at the table having breakfast when I got up.

Seeing me, Anne poked at the fried egg on her plate, "Helen, you sleep really well."

She had big dark circles under her eyes.

Chris was clearly her guest, but had she stayed up on guard all night?

I sat down and took a piece of the fried egg. 

"We actually have a lot to ask you."

Seeing me, Anne started the conversation, "Have you ever faced off with a horde of zombies?" 

"Not exactly. I always avoid direct confrontation." Chris put down his chopsticks. 

"Simply put, I adapt to their patterns. When the zombies return to the buildings, it's relatively safe to walk outside, and vice versa." 

"So far, I haven't seen them cannibalize each other, so it's possible they have a way to mark friend from foe." 

"Do zombies have other sources of energy besides humans?" I asked.

After all, there weren't many survivors for them to feed on. What sustained their activities? 

"Apparently not. The virus might suppress some bodily functions to slow down energy consumption." 

So he really was just here to get some vegetables?

I silently chewed on the browned edges of my egg, refraining from asking the foolish question. 

The rain continued off and on throughout the day.

By afternoon, my fever had returned. I lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, occasionally being woken to drink water or take medicine.

By evening, after sweating profusely, I finally felt clear-headed.

Anne, exhausted, gave me a few instructions before falling asleep.

Feeling much better, I got up to get some water from the kitchen and saw Chris standing alone on the balcony.

I pulled my jacket tighter and walked over.

He made space for me.

I mimicked his stance, leaning on the railing.

The city, stripped of its neon lights, seemed lifeless.

I felt like I was trapped in a small matchbox, the night magnifying the sense of oppression and claustrophobia. 

"It's cleared up," his voice was soft, as if speaking to himself.

The night breeze tousled his hair, scattering moonlight across his face. 

"Yeah..." 

"Do you have something to say to me?" 

"Not really..." I tried to find the words. "Just making small talk... So, what do you think of this place?" 

"It's nice." He smiled slightly.

I was sure Chris knew what I was really asking.

But he deftly deflected my question.

Just as Anne had said, Chris didn't really need us. 

"Aren't you curious about us? Like why we have so many supplies..."

He didn't seem interested at all. 

"If you really knew something, you wouldn't still be in this city," he said,

his face hidden in the darkness.

"But if you must ask, you can tell me what you think of me." 

What kind of person was Chris?

Knocking on doors, trading supplies, sharing information, even daring to stay in a stranger's home.

He was too mysterious and unpredictable.

Honestly, I couldn't read his intentions. 

"You don't care what we think of you," I thought aloud, "Just as we don't care who you are."

He bowed his head slightly, deep in thought. 

"We don't need to understand each other. We can't." 

"We don't need to study each other like a book, no need to 'observe each other's faces and probe each other's minds.'" 

"We don't care who you are, where you're from, or where you're going." 

"In the end, we're just chance encounters in the dark, each with our own destinations. What we share is the courage and faith to move toward our respective goals." 

"So... I'm not 'inviting' you—I'm just wondering if we could travel together for a while?" 

"Helen," he called my name for the first time, "Why?" 

Yeah. 

Why? 

We had stocked up on supplies to avoid going out and forming alliances. 

"There won't be any rescue." My voice sounded dry.

December 16th, the 30th day of the lockdown, I finally faced this fact.

I couldn't understand.

These zombies didn't seem particularly powerful.

How had they thrown the city of Springvale into such chaos?

This was the age of modern weapons...

How could zombies withstand bullets and artillery?

Why, after all this time, was the crisis still not resolved?

No broadcasts...

No reconnaissance planes...

No restored water or electricity...

Nothing.

This could only mean that outside of Springvale was also overrun.

The virus, through unchecked spread, had become a global catastrophe.

The world outside was struggling to cope, and at the epicenter, Springvale might not receive aid for a long time.

Roads and communications completely severed, I had no idea how my parents were. Should I go to Greenfield? Or wait for them to come to me?

Either way, it would be a long struggle.

So, we were likely to have to go out for supplies, to encounter zombies and other survivors.

For Anne and me, two women, this future seemed too harsh.

I believed Anne saw this too, which drove her relentless preparations for this day.

Rather than choosing Chris, we had no other option. 

"Chris, are you staying?" I asked slowly and deliberately.

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