Confrontation on the Rooftop

41

Anne was not far away. As soon as she heard the whistle, she moved closer to us.

Were there more new survivors?

Meanwhile, a second whistle blew.

Although I didn't understand the specific meaning of the whistle, it was evidently a higher-level warning.

Then came the third whistle.

"Peep—"

I vaguely heard a conversation, as if someone was coming up from the escalator on the first floor.

"Let's go!" Simon Harper and Ethan Jackson came running from the other end of the supermarket.

"It's hostile humans; this is serious trouble,"

Simon said as he opened the fire door, quickly leading us out of the mall.

The atmosphere on the rooftop was tense.

Once we were all back, the iron door was immediately locked again.

Zenith Franklin pushed through the crowd toward us.

"There are two cars, eight people. They're all armed with rifles," his face was grim. "They likely scavenged them from dead soldiers."

"Is there only one exit to the rooftop?" I whispered to Simon Harper as I eyed the iron door.

"No, the escalator from the mall also leads to the rooftop," he said, guiding me further inside.

Only then did I realize that, besides the fire escape, there was another back door to the rooftop.

Simon lifted a plastic sheet nailed to the wall,

revealing a glass door connecting to the mall.

The space inside wasn't large, with neatly stacked buckets of drinking water against the wall, and the escalator just a few steps away.

A chill ran through me. This glass wouldn't even withstand an axe, let alone bullets.

Seeing my pale face, Simon hurried to explain, "Don't worry. Besides the barricades, we have other defenses."

"The escalator on this floor has been sabotaged by the captain, creating a complete break. They can't get up—"

Before he could finish, a burst of gunfire whizzed past my cheek.

Screams erupted, and the crowd descended into chaos.

In the confusion, someone grabbed me, and I turned to see Old Grant limping and pushing us toward the crowd.

"Are you out of your mind? Get to the back!" he shouted,

dragging me along so quickly that I nearly stumbled into someone's arms.

"Why are you running around at a time like this?" Chris looked furious.

"Alright, let's not argue now," Anne interjected. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

I shook my head and touched the scratch on my cheek. It was just a minor scrape. Everyone had gathered in the farthest corner of the rooftop.

Though the tempered glass was shattered, it still clung together without fully breaking. The cracks made it impossible to see inside clearly.

Simon Harper seemed unharmed but pale as he reported, "Captain, they seem to have a ladder!"

Zenith Franklin said nothing, merely aiming his gun forward.

Chris subtly shifted to shield Anne and me behind him.

At that moment, the glass door was being slowly pushed open.

A fully armed eight-man squad entered, with the last man also wearing a military uniform.

Zenith Franklin immediately aimed his gun at him.

"The atmosphere seems tense," the man said, ignoring the gun pointed at him and smiling apologetically. "Were we too rude?"

"Hudson Blake," he kicked the armed man next to him in the waist, "apologize."

Tall and thin, with a frail build, Hudson Blake's kick nonetheless sent the man named Hudson Blake to his knees.

"S-sorry."

Zenith Franklin ignored Hudson Blake on the ground, keeping his eyes fixed on the strange man before him. "You're not a soldier."

"When did I ever say I was?" he straightened his uniform collar. "Is it wrong to take clothes from a dead man?"

"You don't deserve it," Zenith Franklin said coldly.

"Let's not be so hostile," the man said, his smile unwavering. "I'm here to talk about cooperation."

"Lucas Westwind." He extended his hand.

Zenith Franklin didn't move.

Seeing his hand hanging in the air, I felt a pang of anxiety.

As the standoff continued, Simon Harper stepped forward and took Lucas Westwind's hand.

"Hello, he's our captain, Zenith Franklin. I'm—"

Halfway through his introduction, Simon suddenly stopped.

Staggering back a few steps, he collapsed, convulsing in a pool of blood. A short knife was embedded in his chest, the blade buried deep.

The crowd erupted in screams again.

The person who had just been speaking to me was now a corpse.

My body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Lucas Westwind...

this man was a complete lunatic!

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